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jaehyun-eclipsed · 5 years ago

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Before I Met You | Twelve

Updates: Sundays

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Warnings: Some swearing

Before I Met You Masterlist

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“Okay, I’m stuck.”

This morning, I had decided to text Jaemin to help me with my physics assignment. He agreed and we promptly met at one o’clock in the piano room. We sat at one of the two work tables, occupying the two chairs directly next to each other with our backs to the window.

Jaemin leans over, placing his hand on the edge of my seat right next to my thigh to get closer to my laptop screen to read the question. His shoulder is brushing against mine, but I don’t move away.

Okay, dude, you’re invading my personal space. I’m pretty sure you don’t actually need to get this close just to read the question.

But I’m also guessing that this is another sign you like me because you don’t seem to be bothered by it at all.

“It’s asking for the distance,” I say, trying to distract myself from our close proximity. “So I’m going to need the acceleration, but I’m not sure how to get that.”

“You can solve for it. They give you enough information.”

“They do?” I read the question again, a sudden epiphany occurring mid-read. “Oh, I’m dumb. I can solve for delta v and divide by the time.”

“Yep, that’s right! And no –” he turns to look at me and smiles “– you’re not dumb.”

I return his smile and glance at his laptop screen. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing really. I’m supposed to be working on a coding project, but I don’t really want to.”

So you’re just sitting down here – on your own time – helping me with physics when you should technically be working on a project…

“Oh, I’ve never tried coding before”

“It’s pretty simple. See, you can define ‘x,’” he says, quickly tapping several keys on his keyboard. “You can say ‘x’ equals five and then” – he hits ‘enter’ to move to the next line in the terminal – “‘x’ plus two and hit enter, and it’ll return seven!”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

I remain in the same position, comfortably seated all the way back in the chair, only turning my head and leaning in just enough to be able to see the small font on his computer. Okay, you definitely don’t need to be getting that close to me just to see. I can see perfectly from here. And you don’t even wear glasses… unless that’s why you’re leaning in… because you actually do need glasses… Eh, no matter, you wouldn’t be leaning into a complete stranger even if you did need glasses.

I shake my head, returning my focus back to my own computer, filling in the values into the equations in a notebook and punching the numbers into my calculator.

“So, who’s your other roommate?” I ask while submitting my final answer into the online assignment.

“Which one? Renjun?”

“No, I met Renjun. Who’s the other?”

“Oh, Jeno?”

“Jeno… so that’s his name…” I murmur to myself.

Jeno’s pretty cute. He has a very… manly look.

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason. I haven’t met him yet, so I was just wondering who he was.”

“Oh,” he remarks. “Yeah, he’s nice. He’s a chemistry major. You should introduce yourself.”

I nod. “I never see him around, but maybe next time!”

We continue this way for the next three hours. I sluggishly work through the questions, asking for his assistance when needed while he occasionally shows me some random YouTube video or coding thing. Honestly, I was surprised he stayed here with me this long. It’s Sunday afternoon; there are a million other things you could do that are much more exciting than helping your new housemate do her physics homework.

“Yay! I finished! Thanks for your help!”

“No problem!” he says, standing up and shutting his laptop. “I’m going to go upstairs to do my homework now.”

“Now?” I ask, perplexed. “Why didn’t you do it within the last –” I check the time and my eyes widen in shock. “– last three hours?”

He shrugs. “I was procrastinating, but I can just say I was helping you,” he says, following with a slight smirk and a wink.

I deadpan. Did he just – did he just wink at me?

“Anyway,” – his smirk morphs into a smile that’s genuinely warm – “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yep.” I press my lips together in a flat line. “See ya.”

I watch him as he leaves the room and turns left to head upstairs.

What the hell?

Thursday evening, I slowly open my eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the early evening twilight seeping in through the blinds. Stretching my arms above my head, I reach for my phone that I placed at the top of my pillow. I squint at the sudden bright light as I unlock it to check the time.

5:30. I napped for an hour and a half.

Jia was out for some club meeting so I had the room to myself for the next few hours.

Gradually, I sit up in bed, looking around the room as I try to shake off the sleepiness. In my groggy state, I decide that I’ll make a sandwich for dinner and then come back up to the room to call my dad.

While grabbing some groceries out of the fridge, I turn my head towards the door, hearing a muffled sound of Jaemin’s voice. In the short time here, I had learned that the walls in the house were not soundproof whatsoever. Unfortunately, the way I figured this out was because I heard some “things” going on when the girl living across from me brought her boyfriend back to her room.

Stepping out of my room, I look down the hall to see that the door to Jaemin’s room is wide open. He walks out of his room, holding a phone up to one ear and glances at me before continuing. He’s dressed nicer today – blue and white vertical striped button-up loosely tucked into his blue slacks. I shut my door and begin walking down the hall.

There’s a little inlet halfway down the hall with a small table and chair. A number of times, I’d walk by in the evenings and see one of my neighbors sitting there with a laptop. Something comes over me – a desire for more attention to continuing testing my suspicions. I walk into the inlet, setting my bag of groceries on the table and stand with one foot in the hallway, placing my weight on the other leg. I pull out my phone to read the text messages I received from Hyojin when he walks back into his room, gripping a package under his arm.

“Hey, I gotta go,” I hear Jaemin say.

When I look up again, Jaemin is walking towards me. He smiles. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“I just woke up from a nap so I’m going to go make a sandwich.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods and presses himself up against the wall opposite of where I’m standing. “Hey, so I was having some trouble with this physics problem… I think it was one you had last week. Do you think you could help me?”

I deadpan immediately, shifting my eyes to the right before returning my gaze back to him. Fortunately, I’m still groggy from my nap and can’t properly contort my face to express how confused I currently am.

You want me to help you with your physics problem when you’re in a harder class? What? Aren’t you the one that helps me?

“Uh,” I begin hesitantly. “Sure…”

“Okay! Uh, you can go make your sandwich and then I’ll meet you in the piano room?”

“Yeah…”

When he leaves, I continue to stand in place, unable to fully comprehend what just happened. I try to attribute my confusion to the residual sleepiness, but I know I can’t be convinced. He really just asked me for physics help, didn’t he? This sounds like another excuse to spend more time with me…

But I do as he says and make my sandwich, grab my backpack, and then find him at the same table we were at last weekend, except this time, we’re facing the window.

As I pull up last week’s physics homework, I sit there wondering how in the world I’m going to help him. If he doesn’t understand it, it’s unlikely that I would have understood it last week. The most I could do is let him see the solution and that’s not exactly helping him.

And guess what? That’s exactly what happens. The only saving grace is that he doesn’t understand the solution either; so he inputs the answer and calls it good because “it’s not like these homework questions are representative of the exam anyway.” He’s not wrong. Even I know that.

“I have to go meet some friends for dinner,” he says, quickly packing up his things. “So I’ll see you later.”

While he’s gone, I decide to do some reading for tomorrow’s lecture and finish up any of the prelab questions before tomorrow’s lab class. However, I find it difficult to concentrate as my brain wants to perform intense analysis on Jaemin rather than trying to understand Vibrio isolation.

Maybe he really only wanted the physics help because he knew I already had the solution. I’m sure he knew I wouldn’t be able to explain it to him and it’s not like he stayed either… I sigh. But that doesn’t explain the winking or sitting with me for three hours… Ugh, whatever, you need to finish studying for tomorrow.

After about an hour and a half, I hear the front door of the house open and I look over my shoulder. The light from the dining room across the way provides just enough light to make out Jaemin’s figure as he walks into the foyer. He glances at me and waves before going upstairs.

I purse my lips, feeling a bit disappointed that he probably wasn’t going to come back. I truly enjoyed his company. He was fun to talk to and showed me interesting things, including his water bottle collection he had accumulated from attending job fairs. Though I wasn’t interested in dating him, I did want to be his friend. At the very least, I could designate him as someone to go get dinner with and just hang out.

“Hey!” a voice says behind me.

I jump slightly upon realizing it’s Jaemin. He has his laptop and backpack in hand and pulls out the chair next to me to sit down. Oh! Huh… you came back.

“Hi, you came back to work?”

“Yeah, I just have something that should take a half hour.”

Several other residents had returned home and were sitting on the couches a few feet away discussing Pokémon Go.

“Have you ever played?” Jaemin asks me.

“No, have you?”

“Yeah, I played all summer,” he says, pulling out his phone. “It’s pretty fun, see? But yeah, I was here for an internship during the summer so I’d walk around campus trying to catch them.”

He spends the next few minutes searching up different Pokémon on the internet, showing me pictures and telling me about their abilities. I nod, commenting on the ones I found particularly cute. It’s nice; it’s so easy talking to him and we can easily talk about nothing without it ever feeling forced.

“Yay, I finished!” he says.

There’s that feeling in my chest again – the one of disappointment when I thought Jaemin wasn’t going to come back to hang out. I internally chastise myself.

“You going to turn in for the night?”

“Nah, I’ll stay down here.”

Three hours later, at eleven p.m., after having finished my biology homework, I decide that it’s time to return to my room to shower and get ready for bed.

“All right,” I say, gently closing my laptop and packing together my things. “I’m done for tonight.”

Jaemin trails behind me as we go up the stairs, telling me about an interview he has next week. There are three directions you can go once you reach the top of the stairs: right, left, or up to the next floor. Jaemin’s room is the first one on the left when you turn right. My room is at the end of the same hall.

As we near his room, I expect him to stop in front of his room and bid goodnight. Only, he doesn’t do that. He continues to follow me to my door as we pass his room.

“Hey, can you get my keys out of the top zipper?” I ask, turning my back to him. “My hands are full.”

“Sure!”

I feel him tug on the top of my backpack, followed by a jingling of my keys as he hands me my lanyard.

“Thanks!” I say as I try to separate the key fob from the rest of my keys.

“You’re a Vulpix!” he suddenly says.

“A what?”

I look at him and see that he’s looking at the printed photo on my door of a brown animal resembling a fox with a fluffier tail. Each door had the names of the residents living in that room and a Pokémon to “represent” each resident. He points to the photo above my name tag. “It’s a Pokémon. It’s one of the cuter looking ones.”

I blink several times, unsure of what to say given that I didn’t have much of an interest in Pokémon. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I think it suits you.”

I turn to look at him and he’s smiling again. He does have a nice smile. And I’d have to be blind to miss it, but there’s that look in his eyes again. The mischievous one.

You’re definitely charming, I’ll give you that.

I return a small smile back, allowing the slightest bit of amusement to be detected in my eyes. “Which one are you?”

“Charmander.”

“Does that one fit you?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll let you get to bed. Thanks for helping me today.”

I give him a crooked smile. “I didn’t really help you at all…”

“Of course you did!” he insists.

He still has his hand on my shoulder and as I look back at him, he’s gazing at me with an expression that I can only describe as ‘lustful.’ He’s conventionally attractive, but I still can’t say I’m interested in him. I just happen to like the attention. And I’m not flirting with him either – at least, I don’t believe I am.

But the next thing he does shocks me to such an extent I nearly drop all the books in my hand. He squeezes my shoulder and leans towards me, tilting his head down so that his mouth is near my ear.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

He pulls back, a smug smirk on his lips, evidently amused by the stunned expression he catches on my face before he turns around to walk back to his room. I watch him until he reaches his door, unlocking it and glancing at me before slowly closing it and disappearing inside.

Okay, there’s no fucking way that wasn’t flirting.

It takes me another moment to gain enough composure to process what just happened before opening my own door.

“Who was that?” Jia immediately asks when I step inside.

“Jaemin,” I answer nonchalantly.

“He walked you back to the room?”

“Yeah…”

She gets up from her chair and hovers over my desk as I set my things down. “Did you ask him to help you with physics?”

“Um, no…” I bite my lip. “He asked me to help him with physics.”

“What?!” she exclaims.

“That was my response.”

She follows me into the bathroom, leaning in the doorway as I clip my hair back to take off my makeup and wash my face.

“Do you think he likes you?”

Jaemin’s “goodnight” continues to ring in my ears. The way he was grabbing onto my shoulder was a little more than “friendly.” Hell, whispering into my ear like that is more than “friendly.” There’s no way he’s not – at the very least – interested in me.

“Um, I think he’s interested in me…” I respond, attempting to say as little as possible.

“I saw you guys working together downstairs when I came home. I think he likes you!”

“I have no idea.”

Friday at noon, I returned home for lunch after finishing up my classes for the day. I sat in my room, watching reruns of NCIS while eating a sandwich and some fruit. My plan for the next few hours was to start on the physics homework that was due on Tuesday. I would attempt all of the questions and then ask Jaemin for help this weekend on the ones I couldn’t figure out myself.

I had sort of made an assumption that we would work together every weekend even if it wasn’t for him to help me with my physics homework. He stayed with me for three hours last Sunday and we studied together for the entire evening yesterday. Hell, he came back to study with me after he went to meet his friends for dinner. Dad is convinced Jaemin has a thing for me and even Jia is suspicious, but I’m trying to keep her out of it as much as possible.

I grab my keys and leave my room to run downstairs to wash my dishes and refill my water bottle before starting on my homework. But as I’m about to pass Jaemin’s door, my ears perk up due to the voices coming from his room.

“No, look, it’s really cool!” Jaemin says.

“No! I don’t want to go there! It’s so dirty!” a female voice responds.

“It’s not dirty! And they have really good samgyeopsal!” Jaemin replies.

I stop mid-step and slowly turn my head towards his door. What the –? Is… is that a girl in his room?

“Noo!” she whines again.

I check the time. It’s 1:45. Last Friday, Jaemin had come to say “hello” to me while I was in the piano room working on an assignment around this time. Our interaction was brief, as he told me he had to be in class at two. Hmm. He should be leaving soon.

I continue walking to the kitchen, figuring it’s probably best that I not get caught eavesdropping right outside his door. As I wash my dishes, I mentally strategize how to stay downstairs long enough to watch Jaemin when he comes down the stairs. I don’t have any of my study materials and I don’t want to risk wasting any time to go get them in case he leaves before that.

After filling up my water bottle, I walk into the dining room and place my things on one of the bar tables near the entryway. I choose to sit in the seat that looks into the foyer and pull out my phone, pretending to busy myself with replying to a text from Hana.

My head snaps up when I hear a door close followed by the voice of the female in question. I wait until I hear them walking down the stairs before getting up, keeping my head down, gaze focused on my phone.

I begin to traverse the stairs, briefly looking at the girl as she comes into view. My heart jumps. Why – why does she look so familiar? Jaemin is following behind her, keeping his gaze to the floor. As we’re about to pass each other, I look up from my phone as if I had just noticed he was there.

“Hey,” I greet.

“Hi.”

I continue up the stairs, rounding the spiral and glance at the girl from the corner of my eye, narrowing my eyes at her. When she reaches the door, she steps to the side, her hands clasped in front of her. She looks at Jaemin expectantly as he extends his hand to open the door for her. My nose wrinkles with a slight disgust at the interaction I just witnessed. She purposely moves out of the way for him to open the door for her?

When I return to my room and sit down at my desk, a sudden realization hits me. Wait a second. I know why she seems familiar!

I log into Facebook and type in a name.

Jisu Choi.

As soon as the page loads, my jaw drops.

Staring back at me is Jisu’s profile picture of a smiling Jaemin with his arm around Jisu.

Holy shit! Jaemin has a girlfriend!

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Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

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calumcest · 5 years ago

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you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter three

[ao3]

yes its me back AGAIN with another chapter imagine i took 5 years off writing fic altogether and now im churning out like 7k a day procrastination truly is the biggest motivator on the planet now i can cheat myself into feeling productive when really my dissertation is still...how u say...unwritten

The boiler is fixed a week later, and Luke returns home.

Despite the fact he’s always lived in this apartment alone, it feels oddly quiet without Calum shouting at him from the kitchen every five minutes and a dog pawing at his ankles for food every two hours. Luke, in all his twenty-six-year-old wisdom, decides that the obvious solution to this temporary loneliness, rather than waiting it out, is to get a dog himself.

“Look,” Calum coos, because Luke (in all his twenty-six-year-old wisdom), has decided to ask the biggest dog-lover on the planet to accompany him to the shelter to pick out one (one) dog. “This one’s so cute.”

“You’ve said that about the last seven,” Luke says. The shelter employee accompanying them laughs.

“That’s because they’re all cute,” Calum says, smiling big and soft at the little puppy sniffing at his finger excitedly. “You should get them all.” Luke rolls his eyes.

“That’s a great idea,” he deadpans, knowing Calum’s barely listening to him anyway. “My four-room apartment is ideal for seven dogs.”

“Exactly,” Calum says absent-mindedly, moving on to the next dog and grinning widely at it. “Hey, little man. This one’s adorable, Luke.”

“Do you think any dogs aren’t adorable?” Luke asks, partially exasperated, partially genuinely curious.

“There’s no such thing as a non-cute dog,” Calum says, and he crouches down to get as close to a corgi’s eye level as a six-two grown man can get. Luke’s got to admit, this one is pretty cute, wagging its little tail and gazing up at them with what almost looks like a smile. Its tail starts wagging harder when Luke crouches down next to Calum, and, unlike the previous seven dogs, it elects to walk over to Luke rather than Calum.

“I think you’ve found your guy,” Calum says, straightening back up again. “What is he, a corgi mix?”

“A pomeranian-corgi mix,” the employee confirms. “He’s called Clifford.” Luke looks at Calum in horror, and Calum bursts out laughing.

“I can change his name, right?” Luke says, because he doesn’t know the intricacies of dog ownership. He’s not sure whether he, like, needs to appeal to court to change his dog’s name, or something.

“Well, technically, yes,” the employee says, “but Clifford’s pretty resistant to change. We tried changing it to Chester and he refused to respond.” Luke looks back at Clifford, who’s still wagging his tail, tongue out, looking decidedly pleased with himself. Luke’s heart kind of melts.

“Right,” he says. “I mean. I guess I can just live with the embarrassment of having a dog named after Michael, right?” He directs the last bit at Calum, who shrugs, still grinning.

“Your call, dude,” he says gleefully, because he’s a terrible friend. Luke sighs, casting another glance at Clifford.

“You’re going to be the death of me, little man,” he says, and Clifford paws at the cage.

-------

“He’s called what?” Michael says, half in disbelief, half in delight.

“Fuck you,” Luke says, as Clifford sniffs at Michael’s ankles curiously. Michael bends down, scratching behind Clifford’s ears.

“Hey, buddy,” he says. “You’re my son, d’you know that?” Clifford’s eyes close and he pushes into Michael’s touch.

“Get your own dog,” Luke says, tugging on Clifford’s lead gently. Clifford refuses to budge.

“I might,” Michael says. “Clifford needs a sibling.”

“He’s not your fucking son,” Luke says, tugging again, and finally Clifford trots back to heel and settles down, resting his head on Luke’s foot.

“Don’t swear in front of my kid,” Michael says, smiling fondly at Clifford.

“I hate you,” Luke says, because he does.

-------

Having a dog is a lot like what Luke imagines living with Michael is like, so maybe Clifford is aptly named.

Clifford follows Luke from room to room, paws at the sofa until Luke lets him on, glares at Luke when he’s playing Xbox until he makes room in his lap for Clifford to sit, and starts making whining noises when he thinks it’s been too long since he last ate (which is, like, every half an hour).

“I’m trying to work, little man,” Luke says one Saturday morning in late November, when Clifford sets himself down on Luke’s feet and glowers at him for having a laptop in his lap. Clifford makes a noise of disdain. “You can sit next to me, but I need to keep this roof over our heads.” He pats the sofa next to him, and Clifford gives him one final reproachful look before trotting over to the sofa and pawing at it. Luke leans over the laptop to pick him up, because he knows better than to take the laptop off his lap and give Clifford a chance to worm his way in, and Clifford curls up next to Luke, staring across the room at the door to the hallway.

Luke manages to work for another hour and a half, ignoring Clifford’s dramatic sighs (seriously, who fucking knew dogs could be drama queens?), before he can’t concentrate on anything other than his growling stomach anymore and sets his laptop aside. Clifford, who’s been dozing for at least twenty minutes, immediately jolts upright and pads into Luke’s lap, curling up and resting his head on Luke’s thigh.

“Not now, little man,” Luke says, picking Clifford up gently and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I need to make us lunch.” He sets Clifford down on the floor and stands up, stretching as he walks into the kitchen, Clifford hot on his heels.

Calum had told him to make sure he makes his own food first before feeding Clifford, because apparently the alpha eats first, or something, so Luke flips the kettle on, chucks a few handfuls of pasta into a pot and puts the ready-made bolognese sauce he’d bought into a separate pot to heat up. Clifford knows the routine by now, so he just settles down near his food bowl, closing his eyes.

Luke’s a pretty quick eater, so Clifford gets his food about twenty minutes later while Luke’s washing up his pots. When Clifford’s finished, lapping at the water in his bowl noisily, Luke heads back into the living room and picks his laptop back up again. Clifford follows a few moments later, and this time doesn’t complain about Luke working when Luke picks him up and sets him down at his side, petting him absent-mindedly as he reads a report.

By four, Luke’s concentration has gone again, so he closes his laptop and stretches. Clifford stretches next to him and then jumps off the sofa, wagging his tail expectantly.

“Alright,” Luke says. “Get your lead.” Clifford spins excitedly in a circle for a moment before running off to the hallway, tearing back in the door a moment later with his lead trailing along the floor behind him. Luke bends down, and Clifford sits still as he waits for Luke to clip the lead to his collar. He lets Luke tug on his shoes and then starts pulling on the lead a little impatiently while Luke searches for his keys.

“You’ll be the one complaining if we get locked out, Cliff,” Luke says, a tad irritably, when Clifford pulls a little harder after two minutes of Luke trying to find his keys. He eventually finds them in his jacket pocket, and sets off, locking the door behind him.

It’s nice outside, and Luke tilts his face into the sun as they make their way to the park. It’s only a short distance away, and Clifford patiently waits at the kerbs of the two roads they have to cross which makes the journey a lot easier for Luke. Once they’re in the park, Clifford beelines for the dog park, making Luke quicken his pace a little to keep up. He hops excitedly in front of the gate as Luke fumbles with the latch on it, and as soon as there’s a sliver of a gap he forces his way through, causing the lead to get caught on the railings as he twists his way through.

“Cliff, you fucking idiot,” Luke says, unhooking the lead where it’s got caught and slipping into the dog park himself, shutting the gate behind him. “Sit, I’ll let you off.” Clifford sits, vibrating with excitement, and the minute the lead is unclipped from his collar he’s tearing off to join the other dogs running around the middle of the park.

Luke ambles over to one of the wooden benches, away from other people - making small talk with dog owners gets a little painful after a while, he’s found - and settles down, keeping an eye on Clifford and making sure he’s not getting involved in anything too rough with any of the bigger dogs. He’s so caught up in watching Clifford that he doesn’t notice someone sitting down next to him until they clear their throat, making Luke throw them a glance.

And his stomach drops, because fucking hell. It’s Ashton.

“Hi,” Ashton says, offering Luke a small, almost nervous smile.

“What are you doing here?” Luke asks stupidly, because in his mind, Ashton’s not supposed to be anywhere Luke is.

“Walking my dog,” Ashton says. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking mine.” Ashton frowns, looking out at the pack of dogs running around, like he’s trying to pick Luke’s out from the group. Luke looks over too, because Ashton being here means Spot’s here somewhere, and he always liked Spot.

“You have a dog?” Ashton says, and he sounds kind of uneasy about it. Luke kind of relishes it; it’s solid proof that Ashton doesn’t know Luke anymore, and it doesn’t sit well with him.

“Obviously.” Ashton says nothing to that for a while, and they sit in incredibly tense, awkward silence.

“How have you been?” Ashton says eventually, and Luke snorts.

“We’re not doing small talk, Ashton,” he says. The name rolls off Luke’s tongue a little easier than it had the first time, a month ago, and something about that sets his teeth on edge.

“Jesus, alright,” Ashton mutters. “I’m just trying to be polite.”

“Well, don’t.” Out of the corner of his eye, Luke sees Ashton roll his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything else.

After another five painfully slow minutes have passed, Luke’s had enough. He gets up, fumbling with the lead in his hand, and shouts: “Clifford!”

“You named your dog after Michael?” Ashton asks from behind him. Luke scowls as Clifford comes bounding over, but his stomach flips uncomfortably. It’s yet another reminder that Ashton knows more about him than he’d like, that he still knows little things like his best friend’s surname.

“No,” he says, bending down and clipping Clifford’s lead onto his collar. “He was called Clifford when I got him.”

“Oh,” Ashton says. “Like the big red dog? Kind of a shitty name for a tiny corgi.” Luke’s scowl deepens.

“He’s a pomeranian-corgi mix,” he says, a little venomously, “and yours is called fucking Spot .” He gives in to Clifford’s puppy eyes, petting him briefly before straightening up.

“She’s got spots,” Ashton says defensively.

“She’s a dalmatian.”

“Exactly.” Luke rolls his eyes.

“I’m not taking any fucking criticism from someone who names a dalmatian Spot,” he says.

“It’s a good fucking name for a dalmatian,” Ashton says, getting up from the bench too. “Spot!”

Spot comes zooming out of the group of dogs, a blur of black and white, but doesn’t head for Ashton. Instead, she beelines for Luke with her tail wagging harder than he thinks he’s ever seen it go. She jumps up at him before she even reaches him, trying to lick every inch of his body, and Luke can’t help but laugh as he tells her down, Spot, down and tries to pet her.

“She’s missed you,” Ashton remarks. Luke doesn’t take the bait, just pats Spot on the head one last time before turning to Clifford, who’s trotted up to Spot, intrigued.

“C’mon, little man,” he says, but Spot’s just noticed Clifford at her feet and is also taking a great interest in him. The two of them sniff each other for a moment, and then their tails start wagging, and Clifford’s face breaks into what Luke always swears is a grin, and Michael always tells him is probably a doggy cry for help. “C’mon, Cliff.”

“Heel, Spot,” Ashton says, like he’s trying to prove Spot’s better-trained than Clifford, or something. Spot, though, doesn’t budge.

“Heel,” Luke tells Clifford sternly, because fuck Ashton, and Clifford trots to Luke’s feet, albeit a little reluctantly. Luke can’t help but feel a little smug as Ashton gives up, leaning over to clip Spot’s lead to her as she gazes up at Luke, panting happily. Luke gives her one absolutely final pat on the head, because he has kind of missed her too.

“Alright,” Luke says, a little uncomfortable, because he has no idea how to say goodbye to someone he never wanted to see again.

“See you,” Ashton says, and it’s written all over his face that he knows what Luke’s thinking. Luke snorts.

“Hopefully not,” he says, but it’s not mean. It’s just honest.

Ashton smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, see you not, then,” he says.

“See you not,” Luke agrees, and sets off out of the park.

It only occurs to him when he’s waiting to cross the road that he’s just had a semi-civil conversation with Ashton, and it sends a bewildering flash of confusion, anger and embarrassment coursing through his veins.

Whatever, he thinks, as Clifford trots off when the light turns green. It's not like he's going to see Ashton again, so it doesn't matter.

-------

“What are your plans on Thursday?” Calum asks him on Tuesday afternoon. Luke shrugs, trying to adjust the settings on his fan. It’s too fucking hot in here.

“Dinner, TV, wanking,” Luke says, fiddling with the controls. “Why?”

“Come to dinner,” Calum says, and there’s an edge of something a little nervous to his tone. Luke looks up at him with a frown.

“Why?” he asks, suspicious. Calum hesitates for a moment, like he’s not sure whether he should tell Luke, but then he sighs.

“Mike and I want to talk to you,” he says. Luke looks away again, staring steadfastly at the fan.

He’s known this talk was going to come for a long time. Every time he makes a comment about their soulmate status and then clams up when they try and broach the topic, he sees them exchange a Look, a Soulmate Look (or maybe just a Michael And Calum Look). They’re careful to avoid talking about it when Luke’s around, to keep the touches and looks to a minimum, but the minimum is still enough for it to be painfully obvious what they are and that Luke’s not a part of it.

“Fine,” Luke says eventually, reluctant, because it’s been nearly three months since they found out and they still haven’t spoken about it, and even Luke has to admit that at some point, it’s going to start impacting their friendship unless they all lay their cards on the table. Calum makes a noise of relief, like he hadn’t expected Luke to be so easy to convince.

“Seven?” he says. Luke nods tightly, twisting the bottom of the fan in annoyance at both it and Calum, and it finally starts fucking whirring.

“I saw Ashton at the weekend,” he says after a moment, because he feels a little guilty and anything is a better topic of conversation than the uncomfortable silence they’ve lapsed into.

“You what ?” Calum sounds aghast.

“By accident,” Luke says hurriedly. “I was walking Cliff, and he was in the dog park.”

“Right,” Calum says, concern still colouring his tone. “Did you talk to him?”

“He talked to me,” Luke says.

“What did he say?” Luke shrugs.

“Tried to make small talk,” he says. “Insulted Cliff’s name.” Calum looks torn, because he usually never misses an opportunity to insult Clifford’s name, but clearly thinks now is not the right moment.

“How did you leave it?” he settles on eventually. Luke can see the self-restraint it’s taking him to not say Clifford is a shitty dog name, to be fair . Maybe this is a good tactic to get Calum to stop making fun of Luke; next time Calum jokes about how long Luke takes to get ready in the mornings, Luke’s going to tell him Ashton said the same thing.

“He said see you, and I said hopefully not,” Luke says. Calum nods, satisfied.

“Good,” he says. “Have you seen him there since?” Luke shakes his head, and hesitates, before telling Calum he’s not actually been to the dog park since Saturday. Calum frowns.

“Why not?” he asks. Luke shrugs, a little uncomfortable, fiddling with the settings on the fan again. His face is heating up, and he’s pretty sure it’s just because it’s too fucking hot in here.

“Don’t want to bump into him,” he says. Calum gives him a long look, and Luke tries not to lose his composure under his steely gaze.

“You shouldn’t let him change your routine, Luke,” Calum says seriously.

“I know,” Luke says, picking at a stray thread in his sleeve. “It’s just- it’s easier.” Calum says nothing for a moment, and then sighs.

“He’s going to think he has an effect on you,” he says, and it’s a little patronising.

“He does,” Luke mutters. “He pisses me the fuck off.”

“You know what I mean.” And Luke does, and that pisses him off too.

“Whatever,” he says, turning back to his computer and clicking on the email in his inbox that looks easiest to deal with. “My problem, not yours.” It’s mean, it’s uncalled for, and Calum doesn’t deserve it, and Luke feels a pang of guilt as soon as he says it, but he can’t swallow his pride to apologise.

Calum doesn’t say anything, which Luke kind of thinks is worse than if he’d just taken the bait and risen to the argument Luke’s sort of spoiling for, and they sit in silence for the rest of the afternoon.

-------

Thursday comes too soon.

Luke brings Clifford, partially because he doesn’t want to leave him alone for two hours and partially as a shield or an excuse to leave, but as soon as he lets himself into Calum’s flat with the key he’d been given when Calum moved in Clifford tears off, lead trailing behind him, to find Duke.

“Hey, son,” he hears Michael say to Clifford, and scowls.

“Come back, little man,” Luke shouts, kicking his shoes off. Reluctantly, Clifford comes back around the corner, and Luke bends down to give him a quick scratch and unclips his lead. Clifford doesn’t hesitate, running back into the living room to find Duke, who’s probably sleeping and doesn’t want to be disturbed by an over-excited three-year-old dog. Luke hangs the lead up on top of his jacket and trails after Clifford, finding Michael on his own in the living room playing MarioKart.

“Hi,” he says, setting himself down on the sofa heavily. There’s an uncomfortable atmosphere that he’s not used to having with Michael and Calum, not since Year Nine when they both hated his guts.

“Hey,” Michael says nonchalantly, not looking away from the screen, but it’s too casual. Luke’s stomach flips, and he swallows.

“Cal in the kitchen?” Michael nods. Great. Now he’s making awkward small talk with his own best friends.

Luke watches Michael play for a few minutes, one eye on Clifford to make sure he’s not annoying Duke too much, and then Calum comes out of the kitchen and declares that dinner’s ready and they all shuffle to the table, dogs in tow with hopeful looks on their faces.

They make idle, awkward chat while serving themselves, Calum and Luke filling Michael in on this stupid fucking client they had to deal with last week, and everybody’s uncomfortable because it’s stringing out the inevitable but none of them want to be the one to bring up the elephant in the room.

Eventually, though, Michael sighs, and puts his fork down.

“This is stupid,” he says, and Luke privately agrees. “Can we just talk?” Calum shoots Luke a worried glance, and Jesus, Luke wishes they would stop acting like he’s going to fucking break if they talk about it.

“Yeah,” Luke says. “Let’s just get this over with.” It’s a little barbed, and he feels bad when Calum’s shoulders slump a little, because he is happy for them, he is, he’s just also selfishly unhappy that the three of them are now officially Michael-and-Calum and Luke rather than just unofficially.

“Okay,” Michael says. “So. Calum and I are soulmates.” Luke nods, putting a forkful of beans into his mouth so he won’t have to say anything.

“We want you to know it’s not going to change anything between us,” Calum says, and Luke chokes, half on a mirthless laugh, half on his beans. With a little difficulty, he swallows, takes a sip of water, and then speaks.

“That’s not true,” he says. “It has to change things between us. It’s already changed things between us.”

“You know what we mean,” Michael says. Luke doesn’t like the we , the us and you implication. That’s exactly what he’s talking about. “We’ll still be best friends.”

“We want this to be an honest conversation,” Calum says. “All cards on the table.”

“ All cards on the table?” Luke says, flicking a glance at Michael, who knows firsthand how spiteful Luke can be. Calum’s never had an argument with Luke like The Great Bedroom Bust-Up of 2019. Michael holds his gaze, and nods.

“Okay,” Luke says. “You first.” Calum and Michael exchange another glance, some kind of unspoken soulmate conversation that Luke can never be a part of. A pang of something a bitter and painful hits him when he realises that not only can he never be a part of it, he can never have it himself, because his soulmate is fucking Ashton . He’s never going to have this, and, not for the first time, he lets himself admit that it’s the majority of what makes it hurt so much.

“Okay,” Calum says carefully. “I’ll just speak for myself. You know I’ve been in love with Michael since- well, uh, as long as I can remember. That’s nothing new. What’s new is that I know Michael’s in love with me too. And, uh, that we’re sort of together now? That’s new.” And yeah, it is new, because Luke hadn’t even known about that. Sure, he’d guessed, with all the hushed conversations and Calum calling Michael love like it was the easiest thing in the world, but it’s somehow different hearing confirmation of it. It stings more than he’d hoped it would. “Other than that, nothing’s changed. I still love you. You’re still my best friend, Michael’s still my best friend.” Calum pauses, clearly waiting for Luke to say something, but Luke just shrugs. He hasn’t got anything to say to that.

“We’re not going to be all couple-y around you,” Michael says. “We know this isn’t the most ideal situation. But we’re not going to keep tiptoeing around you like we have been, so you’ve got to stop being an arsehole and actually support us. This is it now. This is how it is forever.”

Luke has to swallow back the bile rising in his throat at that, at how easy it is for Michael and Calum to throw around words like forever. He only just manages to bite back a spiteful well, how do you know that? Ashton and I didn’t work out, and we’re soulmates , but Michael can see it on his face.

“All cards on the table,” he reminds Luke.

“This isn’t going to work if we don’t get it all out,” Calum adds. “We’ll just build up resentment otherwise.” And yeah, Luke can kind of see his point, because his resentment’s been building for the past six months already.

“Fine,” Luke says, and it’s a little snappy. “How do you know this is forever? I’m living proof that that’s not always the case.” The words twist in the air between them, Michael and Calum on one side of the table, Luke on the other, and Luke kind of hates himself and kind of hates them.

“It just is,” Michael says simply, like Luke hasn’t just taken a nasty swipe at his relationship.

“I’m not taking sides if it doesn’t work out,” Luke says, partially to drive the point home, partially because it’s something he’s worried about since they first became friends. Some of the most stressful times of his life have been when Michael and Calum have argued and both come running to him, each expecting him to take their side.

“We wouldn’t expect you to,” Michael says smoothly. “But you have to support us in this. I don’t want to have to take sides either.” The I’d choose Calum goes unspoken, but Luke hears it.

“Say it,” he says, because apparently he’s some kind of masochist, and all cards on the table, right? Michael folds his arms. Calum looks like he’s about to cry.

“I’d choose Calum,” Michael says, calm and even. The words cut straight through Luke’s heart, even though he’d known, he’s always known, that he’s second-best to both of them. If it had ever come to it, even before all this tattoo bullshit, neither of them would have chosen Luke.

(He supposes that’s part of the soulmate business, but it doesn’t make it any less shitty.)

“And you?” Luke says, rounding on Calum. He needs to hear it, somehow, needs to hear the brutal honesty, needs to hear their old friendship crumble all the way down before he can rebuild it with a new dynamic.

“Don’t,” Calum says, pleading.

“Say it.” Luke’s tone is hard, but his voice wavers. “I need you to say it, Calum.” Calum swallows, hard, and Luke watches his mouth open and close a few times.

“I’d choose Michael,” he mumbles eventually, and swipes at the corner of his eye. Luke immediately feels like shit. He doesn’t want Calum to cry.

“I’m sorry, Cal,” he says quietly, and he means I’m sorry for all of this, and I’m sorry for making you cry . Calum nods, sniffing a little.

“So you know where we stand,” Michael says, and he’s still calm, collected, put-together. Luke’s a little surprised - he’d expected Michael to be the one to fall to pieces, Calum to be the one to keep the conversation together.

“Yeah,” Luke says, handing his unused napkin over to Calum for him to wipe his eyes. Calum gives him a watery smile. “Guess I know where I stand, too.” Michael looks at him, hard.

“We’ve tiptoed around you for six months, Luke,” he says bluntly. “We’ve put all of this aside for you.” Luke swallows down the guilt that rises at that, because it’s true. They’ve put Luke first the whole time, ever since he found out it was Ashton, until the dinner a few weeks ago. They’ve been careful, they’ve been considerate, and Luke’s been a selfish dickhead, not letting them be who - and what - they are around him.

“I know,” Luke says. “I- I really appreciate that.”

“And?” Michael prompts. Luke sighs.

“It fucking sucks,” he says. “I’ve always been second best to you two. It’s always been you two, and then me. And now that’s just- that’s never going to change. I see the way you look at each other, the way you touch each other, and.” He shrugs. “I’m always going to be an afterthought.” He’s almost willing Michael and Calum to contradict him, but they don’t. It doesn’t sting, though, this time, just a dull throb of hurt that Luke thinks might just actually be disguising his crippling sadness. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for his next words.

“And I- I think my biggest problem is that it hurts. It hurts because I’m never going to have this. I know that’s my problem, not yours, but.” He shrugs again. “You guys really drive it home.” And because all cards on the fucking table , he adds: “It hurts more to be around you guys sometimes than it does to be around Ashton.”

The words ring in the silence of the room. Luke thinks he’s never said anything more hurtful in his life, and also thinks he’s never said anything more honest.

“Okay,” Michael says, and he sounds like he’s upset but trying his best to hide it. “Is that all?” Luke nods. He actually feels a bit better already, underneath all the hurt and confusion and aching sadness, because now they know how he feels and he knows how they feel and they can start to rebuild, start to move forward.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he is. “But you said all cards on the table.”

“I did,” Michael says.

“I’m glad you can be that honest with us, Luke,” Calum says, still sounding a little thick, and Luke presses his lips together.

“I’m glad you can be honest with me too,” he admits. “I think- I think it shows. That we’re best friends.” It sounds stupid when he says it, like a ten-year-old on the playground, but both Calum and Michael nod sincerely, like that’s exactly what they were thinking. Luke has to blink back the tears that well up in his eyes at that, because fuck, he doesn’t deserve them.

“I love you,” he says, and it comes out helpless. Both Michael and Calum smile at him, and Michael’s eyes suddenly look misty too. “I do. And I really am happy for you two, underneath all of this, I swear. It was the first thought I had when I realised you two were soulmates. I know I’m a selfish cunt. I just- I kind of needed to hear you say our friendship was going to change to accept it, to move on. I’m glad you didn’t lie to me.”

“It’s okay,” Calum says. “Imagine how badly Michael would have coped with it if he’d been third-wheeling you and your soulmate.” All three of them laugh, but it’s choked and teary.

“Fuck you,” Michael says, wiping his eyes.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” Luke says, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I mean, I think it’ll still take me some getting used to, but that’s my problem. I’m happy for you, and I love you. And I don’t want to be an obstacle anymore.” He’s given up trying to control the tears now, because it’s Michael and Calum, and they’ve seen him in far worse states than this.

(They saw him after Ashton.)

“You were never an obstacle,” Michael says reassuringly, a little choked.

“We made the choice to put you first, Luke,” Calum says, reaching over the table for Luke’s hand. “We might be soulmates, but we’re still nothing without you.” Tears are streaming freely down all of their faces now, and Luke squeezes Calum’s hand like it’s the only thing tying him to the planet. He reaches for Michael with his other hand, laces their fingers together, and sits there for a moment, crying silently with his two best friends.

“I love you,” Calum says. “Both of you.”

“I love you too,” Michael says. “Mostly Luke, but yeah, you’re alright too, Cal.” Luke and Calum huff out shaky laughs at that.

“We look like we’re doing a séance,” Luke says after a moment, when he sees Calum and Michael’s hands intertwined under the table, and Calum and Michael giggle weakly. He puts on a husky voice, and says: “Oh, spirits of third-wheeling, are you out there?” Calum and Michael laugh again, stronger this time, and Luke’s heart warms. They’re okay. They’re going to be okay. Everything is changing, but nothing has changed.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael says, grinning.

“We should probably feed the dogs,” Calum says, because Clifford and Duke have been huffing every few minutes for about twenty minutes now. Luke nods, and lets go of both Michael and Calum a little reluctantly, despite the fact that Michael had been about two seconds away from crushing his hand.

They all get up, Calum and Luke to feed their respective dogs, Michael to start clearing the table. They’re in sync, they’re working in tandem, and they’re okay.

They’re okay.

-------

Luke hasn’t been back to the dog park since that Saturday.

He’s walked near it, walked past it, almost walked to it, but chickened out at the last minute. Calum’s words echo in his mind every time - you shouldn’t let him change your routine - and he knows, he knows Calum’s right, but Luke’s a bit of a coward and a big fan of taking the easy way out. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sit uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, though, every time he turns left instead of right into the park, but Clifford doesn’t seem to mind.

Clifford, Luke has discovered, fucking loves the beach.

It’s not too far from the park to the beach, so Luke’s taken to walking Clifford along the water instead, letting him splash around to his heart’s content in the waves lapping at the shore. Clifford doesn’t even tug in the direction of the park when they set off anymore, just bounces happily along the road to the sand.

Luke tells Calum, one day, who off-hand remarks that he’s never actually taken Duke to the beach, and Luke, once he’s got over his initial shock, says they absolutely have to go. Calum rolls his eyes, and Luke calls Michael to convince him to go and pressure Calum into going - which, in hindsight, not the best idea, because as Michael sensibly points out, he’ll probably get sunstroke before they even make it to the beach. Nevertheless, Michael agrees, and so Calum agrees, and that’s how, a week later, they’re all ambling down the warm pavement to the beach.

“Jesus, I’m fucking boiling,” Michael grumbles, plucking at his shirt.

“It’s December, Mike, what d’you expect?” Luke says, jogging a little to keep up with Clifford. “You’ve lived through twenty-seven of them.”

“Fuck, don’t say that,” Michael groans. “I’m so fucking old.”

“Yeah,” Calum says, with a grin. Duke’s padding along calmly, stopping to sniff at flowers every few minutes, much to Clifford’s chagrin. “I’m your toyboy, now.” Michael scowls.

“Fuck you,” he says, fanning himself wildly. “Fuck. I’m getting in the water as soon as we get there.” Luke rolls his eyes.

“You’re so fucking melodramatic,” he says. “It’s six p.m. It’s not even hot.”

“Alright, just because you got all the Australian genes,” Michael snipes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke says.

“Blonde, blue-eyed, ability to surf,” Michael says, waving his hand dismissively, like it’s some kind of an explanation.

“What? I can’t surf,” Luke says.

“Well, you can stand up on a board, can’t you? Same thing.”

“That’s not surfing,” Calum says, shaking his head.

“I’m not taking criticism from you ,” Michael says, because Calum can barely stand up straight on solid ground, as they round the corner and arrive at the beach. The sun is slowly setting, glittering on the water and making them all squint.

“I’m getting in,” Michael declares, tugging his shirt off and flinging it at Calum.

“Me too,” Luke says, before Calum has the chance to say anything. Clifford’s whining, begging to get to the water, and Luke hands Michael his lead for a moment while he wrestles his shirt off his sticky back. He turns his back to Calum, reaching out for Clifford’s lead, but is interrupted by Calum saying:

“You didn’t tell me it’s grown.”

“Huh?” Luke says, turning back to Calum. Calum points at his back.

“The tattoo.” Luke frowns.

“What?”

“It’s grown.” Luke twists, trying to see. Fucking tattoo. Of course he got his on his shoulderblade.

“I can’t- I’m sure it hasn’t,” Luke says. “You’ve only seen it once. You probably just don’t remember.” Michael’s walked over next to Calum, and he’s frowning now, too.

“It’s got a dog on it now,” he says, and Luke scowls.

“Come on, guys,” he says. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Calum says, and he sounds a little confused and a little worried.

“Do they do that?” Michael says, addressing Calum, like Luke’s not even there. “Do they grow?”

“Mine hasn’t,” Calum says, tilting his head up so the sunlight catches the black ink on his neck.

“Nor mine,” Michael says, turning back to Luke, who’s still trying to see his own shoulderblade in vain. “Here, wait, I’ll take a photo.” Luke stills, slightly grumpy, ready for a ha, ha, guys, I didn’t even believe you, what kind of a joke is that when Michael and Calum inevitably burst out laughing, but it never comes.

Instead, Michael shoves his phone in front of Luke, and Luke grabs it and pulls it closer, because he hasn’t brought his glasses. He cups a hand over the screen, squinting to see, and he can make out the tattoo, dark and swirling on his skin. Waning moon, bird with drumstick - and, shit. Dalmatian, gazing up at the bird.

“Shit,” he says, and he’s panicking, pawing at his back like it’s going to come off. All he can feel under his fingertips is warm skin. “Shit. Fuck. What the fuck? They don’t- they don’t just fucking grow, do they? Is this- is this, like, cancer, or something?”

“What?” Michael says.

“Look it up,” Calum tells Michael, who wrenches his phone back out of Luke’s hands and starts typing furiously.

“Fuck,” Luke says, raking a hand through his hair. “Cal, what the fuck.”

“Hey,” Calum says, soothing, reassuring. Even Clifford seems to have noticed something’s wrong, because he’s whining at Luke’s feet, no longer vibrating at the other end of the lead in Michael’s hand. “It’s okay.”

“It’s- Cal, it’s not- it’s grown ,” Luke says, almost frantic. “It’s not supposed to do that. Yours hasn’t done that.”

“I know,” Calum says, like he wishes he could offer Luke an explanation. Luke stares at him wildly for a moment, and then pulls his own phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Calum asks.

“Calling Ashton,” Luke says, because deep in his gut, it feels like the only thing to do right now.

“What- Luke, I don’t think that’s a good-” but it’s too late, Luke’s taking a few strides away from Michael and Calum, biting his lip as the dial tone rings.

It cuts out after four rings, to a scrambling and a surprised: “Hello?”

“Hi,” Luke says, and he can hear the panic in his own voice.

“Luke? Are you okay?”

“Has yours grown?” There’s a pause.

“What?”

“Your tattoo. Has it grown?”

“ Grown ?”

“Just answer the fucking question. Is there any more to it?” There’s a rustling sound, then a thud, like Ashton’s getting out of bed.

“Uh, I don’t know, it’s- I can’t really see it unless I look in a mirror, hang on.” There’s the sound of padding footsteps, and Luke stares out at the horizon, watching the sun slowly lower itself into the water, counting the seconds as they pass. “Shit. Shit .” Luke’s stomach sinks.

“It’s grown?”

“Yeah. It’s- what the fuck? Are they meant to do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“I- what the fuck?”

“I don’t fucking know , Ashton.”

“Jesus, alright, don’t bite my fucking head off.” Luke clenches his teeth.

“Fuck you,” he says.

“Fuck me ? Luke, you’re-” But Luke doesn’t stick around to hear what he is, hanging up and traipsing back to Michael and Calum, who are muttering quietly to each other, staring at Michael’s phone screen.

“It’s grown,” he confirms, even though he thinks they all knew that. He didn’t have to call Ashton to confirm it, but somehow, he needed to.

“There’s something, but you’re not going to like it,” Michael says.

“Tell me.”

“There’s been a study,” Calum begins, and Jesus, Luke doesn’t have the time for this. He snatches Michael’s phone out of his hand and reads - study, London, tattoo growth, separate, choice. The words scramble in his mind and he reads the sentences over and over again until they make sense - a study conducted in London, into soulmates who experienced tattoo growth, discovered it occurred when the mates made the active choice to remain separate .

Luke’s stomach lurches, and he feels the blood drain from his face so fast that he goes dizzy, catching Calum’s bicep to steady himself.

“It’s a small study,” Calum says. “Six sets of soulmates. It’s not conclusive.”

“Jesus,” Luke whispers, not even listening, mind racing. “Am I- Am I just going to end up covered in fucking- in tattoos about Ashton ?” Calum bites his lip unhappily. Neither he nor Michael can answer that.

Luke falls into the sand, hard, and Clifford immediately climbs into his lap, sniffing at him, quiet and concerned. Michael and Calum settle down next to him, and Calum wordlessly hands him back his shirt, like he knows Luke wants to pretend it’s not happening. Luke pulls it back on silently, and puts his head in his hands.

“Can I just catch a fucking break?” he mumbles, voice cracking on the last word. Two sets of arms slip around him.

They don’t swim, and Clifford doesn’t get to play in the water, but they get to watch the sun set together, and in between his spiralling thoughts Luke finds the time to think that that’s something.

taglist: @glitterlukey @hey-its-grey

chapter four

#lashton #malum #5sos fic #5sos slash #5sos fanfiction #SORRY im just really feeling this fic for some reason #feeling PROLIFIC #but realistically this will be my last update for a while probably #bc i really do need to get a move on with my diss #9000 words...due on the 4th may...unwritten #i am so unbelievably stupid that i astound myself sometimes #i also have an exam on the 1st may #which OF COURSE i have not revised for #and i have a 2500 word presentation script & slides to submit on monday #is that done? no #oxford and leeds please dont revoke my masters offers based on these tags #i promise i'll be better next year

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sandershospitalau · 5 years ago

Text

The Extra Late Night Show

What can I say except surprise?

CW: Surgery, Mentions of Death, suggested death, Talk Shows, POV Second Person, Remus being gross, Virgil mention, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, only a tiny bit of angst at the end, Mostly funny

Archive of our Own

————————

You blend into the Miami crowds, lost in your own world. You consistently check your pocket to make sure your phone was still there. At this point, you aren’t entirely sure where you are. It's a nice part of town by the look of it, with shiny buildings on either side of the packed road and crowds mulling around you without a care in the world. You have quite a bit to do, but who would want to be doing that? The only way you can think of procrastinating is to take a walk.

You can almost feel the endless viruses floating into your mouth as you pass a gigantic building with more windows than walls. A large open courtyard pushes the building back from the road. Smooth paths cut through tenderly planted flowerbeds, looping around a large statue. The stone statue is a woman with a cloak draped around her modest black dress. She holds her hands to her torso. One hand loosely grips a large crucifix while the other nurses a tiny bouquet of flowers. Oh, now you know where you are! This is the main entrance to St. Gemma's Hospital! You passed by the statue a year ago to visit a friend who had heart surgery here. They got stuck with a pretty big bill (the joys of the American healthcare system), but the doctors did a fairly good job. You’re so distracted by the pretty statue, you’re not prepared for something to fly into your head and send you tumbling into the nearest stranger.

As you get your bearings, you look around for whoever hit you. Standing against the hospital wall with a trash bag over their back like a greasy Santa Claus is someone wearing a dark green jumpsuit, grinning wildly at you.

“Enjoy the show!” the person squeals. Before you can say anything, they race off, the trash bag jumping against their back. You look down at what the person threw at you. It’s a DVD, sitting in a clear case. There’s something written on the case cover in Sharpie.

The Extra Late Night Show!

Starring Remus Duke!

Now, when someone throws a mysterious DVD at you, the usual reaction should probably be to throw the DVD away. But you’ve got nothing better to do. So, nursing your aching head, you pick up the case and make your way towards home. You’ve got a movie to watch.

--------

The footage pops to life. You see a small office space, or what someone attempted to look like an office space. Shelves line the walls covered in cleaning supplies and napkins. The desk in the middle is a child’s school desk. The nameplate on the desk reads ‘Remus Duke’. Someone begins humming from somewhere off-camera.

“Do do Do do DoOoOoOoO,” they hum. “Do do Do do dooooooooo. Do do Do do Do! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Do do do do do!” Someone pops out from behind the desk. It’s the same greasy person you saw throw the DVD at you!

“Welcome to the Extra Late Night Show!” The person chirps. “I am your Duke of Dirt and King of Chaos, Remus! As always, I have my loyal cameraman, Mitchell!” The camera shakes slightly.

“Dude, this place is a mess,” the cameraman, Mitchell, huffs.

“It’s a janitor’s closet, I don’t know what else you expected,” Remus laughs.

“I thought you had OCD,” Mitchell mutters.

“Nah, my writer decided to throw that out,” Remus scoffs.

“Huh?” Mitchell asks.

“Anywho, welcome to tonight’s show!” Remus declares, dramatically waving his hand overhead. “We’ve got a wonderful line-up for you, folks. Starting off tonight, we’re taking you on a tour of the geriatrics bathrooms! One of the grossest places in St. Gemma’s! Sprinkled throughout this show like eyeball shavings, we’ll include everyone’s favorite segment, Dumpsters of Miami, where I review the contents of my latest dumpster dive, alongside Emergency Room Horror, What’s In My Mouth, and tonight’s Top 5 Hottest Patients! Number 3 will surprise you!”

“You do know I have to work tonight,” Mitchell scoffs.

“Like anyone is going to notice one missing anesthesiologist!” Remus grunts, sitting on his desk.

“Yeah, my boss,” Mitchell huffs. “And the people I’m operating on.”

“But those segments will be highlighting tonight’s main event!” Remus continues. “We’ll be following Dr. D on his rounds tonight as he operates on burn victims and terrifies patients with his morbid scars!”

“Hold up,” Mitchell stammers. The camera pans down, showing Mitchell’s scrubs. “Dr. D? We can’t follow that guy! He’ll rip our skin off!”

“He’s a kitten,” Remus scoffs, waving his hand dismissingly. “We’re friends! It’ll be fine, trust me. Now come on, the geriatrics ward is calling our names!” Mitchell groans and turns off the camera. You decide to fast-forward through the geriatrics ward segment.

You stop at a clip of Remus pushing a large cleaning cart down the hall. St. Gemma’s hallways are just as clean as you remember them. You’re honestly surprised as you realize the dirty man you’re watching is the one in charge of cleaning this place. He polishes off a door handle, giving it a bright shine. He finishes the clean by sticking the doorknob in his armpit.

“You done?” Mitchell grunts.

“We’re almost at Dr. D’s office!” Remus laughs, continuing down the hall. “While we’re there, we’ll get an overview of what he does and convince him not to tear our faces off and let us film him! Here we are!” The camera pans to a wooden door with the words ‘Inter Hospital Consultant’ on it. “The doc’s not a fan of having his name on the door.” Remus pushed the door open and strolled right into the office.

Now THIS is what an office should look like. The room is very professional! Diplomas line the walls, but the names are covered with sticky notes inside the glass cases. The smooth faux-wood desk is clean and tidy, with a computer, a jar of pens and pencils, a black hat, and a phone. The man you assume is Dr. D seats in a comfy modern seat. Long burn scars trail down half of his face and turn a few strains of his black hair white. He wears a black shirt with a yellow tie under his white coat and a pair of yellow gloves. He’s glaring at the camera with an intense stare that makes you look away.

“Dr. Elting,” Dr. D sighs. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the leg surgery on the 35-year old Latina woman that’s supposed to begin in…” He looks at the clock on his computer. “An hour and a half?”

“Relax, D, he’s with me,” Remus giggles. He sits on Dr. D’s desk and crosses his legs. “I called him in sick.”

“Dude, you can’t—” Mitchell stammers.

“I told them you had explosive diarrhea,” Remus says. “They didn’t ask too many questions. So, D, how does it feel to guest star on the Extra Late Night Show?”

“Your world famous talk show,” Dr. D groans. “It’s wonderful, Remus.”

“Woo!” Remus whoops. He lays on his back, knocking over Dr. D’s jar of pens. “So here’s what we’re going to do. You, my rough-skinned friend, are the star of our show! The audience wants to know what a night in the life is like for a surgeon! What’s it like consulting at other hospitals? You ever get the urge to squeeze someone’s heart and feel it beat in your hands?”

“Remus, Remus, Remus,” Dr. D tuts, shaking his head. “I already have that power. Now leave.”

“Nah,” Remus says. You hear a soft beep from somewhere in the room. Dr. D pulls something out of his pocket. His face tightens.

“A 7-C-3 from the EMTs,” Dr. D mutters. “Emergency surgery.”

“Oooo, what’s that?” Remus purrs, but Dr. D ignores him. He launches out of his chair and out of his office. Remus scrambles off the desk.

“Remus, this is an emergency call, we can’t follow him!” Mitchell hisses as the pair stumbles out of the office. The camera shakes so much, you can’t see much of what’s happening.

“Do it or I’m putting the leftovers from the geriatrics ward in your locker, chicken,” Remus growls. “Bak-Kah!” The camera angles towards Mitchell’s feet as the pair jog after Dr. D.

“You’re lucky I like your humor, Prince,” Mitchell chuckles.

“It’s Remus Duke when we’re filming!” Remus groans. “You have to use my stage name! Get the camera up!” Mitchell pulls up the camera, and you get a better view of the St. Gemma’s halls. Remus runs alongside the edge of the camera. “So, what’s a 7-C-3?”

“I don’t know EMT code,” Mitchell explains. “I think sevens are for burns.”

“Well then no wonder they called D!” Remus laughs. “He’s the best in the business for burns! I’ve handled the ‘hazardous materials’ from those operations, they look like chicken!” You can see Remus do quotation marks around ‘hazardous materials’. The camera pans around a corner just in time to see Dr. D enter a large elevator.

“Welp, he’s gone,” Mitchell says, stopping. “We better end the show.”

“He can’t lose me that easily!” Remus barks. Remus runs into the nearest elevator and presses a button. The camera barely gets inside before the doors closed.

“Dude, you left your cleaning supplies outside Dr. D’s office,” Mitchell remarks.

“If someone steals it, hey, free food!” Remus laughs. His face pops on camera. He’s so close, you can see each individual hair of his mustache. “This seems like the perfect time to cut to the next segment of our show! We’ll be right back!” Static fills the screen before going black.

You think it glitched out for a moment before white words slide into view. ‘Getting Personal With Remus’. Remus’s messy office pops on screen, but the lights are off. The only light in the room is a small fire inside a trash can beside Remus’s desk. Remus sits on top of the desk, staring into the camera with a smile and a wink.

“Happy Valentine’s!” Remus says. “Hope you like the candle. On tonight’s ‘Getting Personal’, we’re talking about how I met Dr. D. It’s quite the story! I was looking for a job when I suddenly stumbled upon a Help Wanted sign for… can you guess? You’re right, Taco Bell! I began working that same day! I loved tossing frozen food into the fryer. Well one day I got a bit too carried away with my tossing and I got shipped to St. Gemma’s with second-degree burns! And Dr. D was my doctor. I got fired from Taco Bell. Once I was all healed up, I got a job as a janitor here, and D and I have been friends ever since!” Remus kicks his leg out. His foot knocks against the trash can and tips it over. Fire begins to crawl towards the desk. “Now back to your regularly scheduled program.” The screen goes black again.

The DVD cuts back to the elevator just as the doors slide open. You vaguely remember seeing an article online about how good the burn ward at St. Gemma’s was, back when you were trying to find where the hospital was to visit your friend. It’s tough to get a good look inside with the moving camera, but you can see plush furniture and gentle lighting over a receptionist’s desk. Voices shout and give orders somewhere in the ward. The receptionist doesn’t seem to care.

“The patient in Room 705 just kicked it,” the receptionist mutters, glancing up at Remus. “You need to clean it out.” Remus ignores the receptionist and jogs down the hall towards the voices.

“Is there enough undamaged skin for the graphs?” one person asks.

“We may have to use some cadaver skin,” another responds.

“Oh, they’re doing skin grafts!” Remus chirps. He stops by a half-open metal door. The sign on the side reads ‘Operating Theater 2, Level 7’. Remus carefully pulls the door open.

“Remus, no!” Mitchell hisses. He grabs Remus’s arm and tugs him back. “You aren’t sterile.”

“I should hope not,” Remus chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“If you go in there, you could spread an infection!” Mitchell groans. “Burn victims are the most in danger from them! You could kill the guy!”

“All in the name of a good show, right?” Remus sighs, shrugging. “Here, give me the camera.” The camera switches hands, and you finally get a good look at Mitchell. His long blonde hair is tied into a ponytail behind him. He’s wearing black scrubs under a thick white sweatshirt. While Remus’s stare bounced all over the place and Dr. D glared into your soul, Mitchell had the eyes of an emotional teenager ready to do something dangerous.

“I’m not getting fired because of you,” Mitchell hisses with gritted teeth.

“Relax, Anx-Mitch,” Remus says, correcting himself halfway through. The camera pans down and slips just inside the door. The operating theater is split in half. The half you can best see is a long row of sinks below a long window. Through the window you see doctors huddling around a patient. The angle is so bad you can barely tell what they’re doing. You can pick out Dr. D, since his burns pop up under the harsh OR light. He’s focused on the task in front of him, silent while the other doctors discuss how to proceed. He simply works.

“What are you doing?” the receptionist’s harsh voice screams. The camera jumps back and flies through the air, landing in Mitchell’s arms. Remus and Mitchell zoom down the hall with the receptionist’s threats echoing behind them.

“Time for a commercial break!” Remus laughs. He grabs the camera and pushes it down as it cuts to another segment. Here, Remus is outside in the middle of the day, leaning against a large, dirty, green dumpster.

“Here at the Remus Academy of Dumpster Diving,” Remus states with the full professionalism of an actual salesman. “You’ll be taught all the best locations in Miami to score some sweet goods! But don’t come near St. Gemma’s or I’ll steal your kneecaps!” Remus flips open the dumpster with a loud clang. He hoists himself up and tumbles into the half full pit of disease. “For the simple cost of your social security number, you’ll get first hand experience at discovering the untold treasures of garage cans and curbside trash. For example…” Remus pops up with a broken baseball bat. The top half has been ripped off. “Weapons! Or…” He ducks back down and brings up a handful of shredded paper. “Confetti!” He tosses the paper in the air. “Call the number below in the next half hour and you’ll get your dumpster personally looted!” The ‘phone number’ Remus mentioned isn’t even composed of numbers. It’s A#@-JRD-(D#$. “Join the Remus Academy of Dumpster Diving today!”

The show quickly cuts back to Dr. D’s office. Remus is laying on the floor, kicking his legs in the air. The camera sits beside him.

“Can I stop filming now?” Mitchell groans. “My phone’s going to die.”

“Sadly, we couldn’t get more juicy surgery footage,” Remus huffs. “So we’ll just have to wait for D to come back!”

“Surgery takes a while, Remus,” Mitchell scoffs. “Don’t whine about it. It’s only been a few hours.” The office doors creaks open. Dr. D steps inside his office, slipping on his yellow gloves. You get a glimpse of the burns covering his fingers. Remus shoots up like a puppy. Mitchell clambers up, groaning.

“So how’d it go?” Remus chirps. Dr. D slinks to his desk and sits down.

“Do your job, Remus,” Dr. D grumbles, staring into his computer.

“What, too squeamish to share details?” Remus scoffs, sitting on the desk.

“Exactly,” Dr. D sighs.

“Come on,” Remus purrs. He pokes at Dr. D’s cheek with each word. “Come on come on come ON!” Dr. D glares at Remus and the camera takes a step back. He settles his hands flat on his desk.

“I want you to imagine you have some resemblance of medical training,” Dr. D mutters. “You’re creative, I trust it’s not too difficult. Now I want you to imagine your patient is a 30-something man who was nearly beaten to a pulp by his abusive parents.” Something drops in Remus’s gaze. He’s no longer poking at Dr. D. “I want you to imagine yourself in surgery trying to repair the damage to this man, but as soon as you fix one issue, another issue comes up. The man’s body is destroying itself on the table and there is nothing you can do until a fellow doctor announces the time of death.” Dr. D’s words come out as a violent hiss. His fingers clench inside his gaudy gloves. “Now imagine myself in that situation, but the patient was asleep as their apartment burned around them, and tell me if you would be excited to talk about it!” Remus hops off the desk. Dr. D’s hands unclench slightly, though his jaw is threatening to break his teeth.

“I am in no mood for your ridiculous show,” Dr. D grumbles. For the first time in the show, Remus seems softer. His edges aren’t so sharp. His dirty nails rest over Dr. D’s glove. Dr. D fixes his black hat and takes a deep breath. Then he glares into the camera.

“Leave,” he hisses. Mitchell takes off, out of the office and into the hall before the camera cuts. After a few seconds of darkness, Remus’s office space reappears. He’s sitting behind his desk, once again carrying his demonic smile.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” Remus laughs. Someone groans behind the camera. Dr. D steps into view and takes a spot standing behind Remus. He seems a bit calmer than earlier.

“That’s all the time we have for this episode!” Remus chirps, rocking back and forth. “We're ditching the rest of our line-up because I don't care! I’d like to give a warm thank you to Dr. D for being a fabulous guest on our show tonight!” Dr. D seems resigned to his fate, but far more happy than Mitchell ever did. “Tune in next time for live coverage of the Sanders Hospital hosted Nurse’s Rally!”

“A rally?” Dr. D asks, glancing down at Remus. He takes a phone out of his coat and types something in. “...organized by Virgil Lawson.” He puts the phone away again. His expression is unreadable, unchanged from earlier. “Remus, could I assist you in your next episode at this rally?”

“I’d love that!” Remus shouts, throwing his hands in the air. “See you next time on the Extra Late Night Show! Bye, everybody! Do do Do do DoOoOoOoO. Do do Do do dooooooooo. Do do Do do Do! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Do do do do do! ” Remus waves goodbye. The screen turns black. The show is finally done. Without saying a word, you take the DVD out of your player. You gently put it back in its case. You walk into your kitchen. You open up the trash can and put it inside. Then you decide to look up how to rid a home of curses because you are certain there was a violent curse on that DVD.

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@purelyreblogstsedition @watchoutforthefanfics @moonlight22oa @mediocrity-at-best

#remus sanders #deceit sanders #mitchell cartoon therapy #sanders hospital #sanders hospital fanfic #sanders sides #sanders sides au #cartoon therapy #cartoon therapy au #surgery #mentions of death

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alswonderland · 6 years ago

Text

Its time

↳Peter Parker x f!reader

↳ Pregnant au/ married life au with Peter Parker where Peter and reader prepare for the arrival of a new member.

↳Warning: avengers being cute af, fluffy goodness, married couple stuff, Peter being suggestive (slightly)

↳A/n: dude you have no clue how long I have been wanting to post this for. I kept procrastinating on writing it even thought I loved the idea.

*edited from the original version*

————————————

“Y/n!” Peter screamed at the top of his lungs “can you get the screws as well?” he asked his 9 month pregnant wife.

Peter was in the middle of setting a baby crib that he had ordered online when you were 3 months pregnant, but due to really bad shipping arrangements the crib had only come two days go.

Which is why both you and your husband(mostly your husband, because he wasn't letting you do anything) were trying to build the crib as fast as you could because you never know when the baby would pop right out of you, since you were now very close to your due date.

“Coming, coming” you waddled your way to Peter. You gave him the desired object and held your very round belly. “Do you see that sweety, do you see what daddy is making for you? this is going to be your new bed!” you looked at Peter and newly made crib.

You had started to pick up the habit of talking to your baby in the middle of your pregnancy due to the fact that you were bored of staying home alone the entire day, you spoke to your baby, telling him stories about how you and Peter met and how excited is everyone to meet the little one.

Peter looked at you in awe as you rubbed your belly and smiled at your bump. He got on his knees and looked your big belly. He rubbed small circles and whispered soft things only for your infant to hear. Father-son bonding time as he liked to call.

When ever Peter had time, whether it was after long hours of work at the bureau or going on business trips with Tony , your husband would always find a way to talk to your baby.

Peter got up from his position to cup your face in his soft hands. “I love you” he said as he kissed your temple softly.

“I love you, too”

—————————————————————

You opened an eye looking at the glowing red light next to your bed, 3 am. You let out a small groan, angry, it was 3 am and you couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried because everytime your eyes closed you would see that beautiful chocolate cake you saw at the grocery store the day before when you went for a late night grocery run with Peter.

“i knew i should've bought it” you thought resting your hand on your belly and felt kicks. “are you thinking about it too?” smiling you looked over to your sleeping husband. Mouth wide open, a bit of drool threatening to fall on the baby blue pillowcase he was sleeping on. What a cutie.

You leaned over to him and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

You slowly removed the covers of your body and tried get off the bed without making any sounds to make up the sleeping beauty next to you.

“ouch, that hurt!” You whined softly, as you rubbed the area you got kicked “whats wrong?” you pouted.

“Food?” you questioned in a amused tone, and got a kick as a response. With that you walked out of your shared bedroom and made your way to the kitchen.

“What should we eat?” You bent down a little to look at the items inside your refrigerator.

“Broccoli? Nah who we kidding we ain’t healthy, pasta? Hmm maybe in the morning,” both hungry and frustrated from no sleep you shut the fridge a bit to hard. You winced at the noise of magnets falling on the floor and prayed that Peter hadn’t woken up.

“We literally don’t have anything to eat!” you kicked the magnets out of the kitchen making a mental note to tell him in the morning to pick it up. You let a annoyed sigh, when you remembered Peter buying some snacks.

“Ah ha!” You exclaimed looking at the pack of chocolate chips in your pantry. “ I knew I had this somewhere” you grined.

You looked at your belly which was covered in one of Peter’s extra large graphics t-shirts, and said “ let’s get baking kiddo.”

“Ahh smells so good!!!” You exclaimed as you mixed the dough with the chocolate chips “if only I can taste it” you said with a slight pout, as you brought the spoon next to your mouth.

“Don’t you even think about it” said Peter making you jump in fright.

“OMG BABE! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? SCARE THE BABY OUT OF ME?” You screamed as you placed your hand on your rapidly beating heart.

Peter, no longer leaning on the doorway of your kitchen made his way to you. His arms holding you in a soft embrace, as he muttered soft words to calm your poor heart. He kissed your forehead and apologized profusely.

“Y/n what are you even doing here? At this time? It’s almost 3:30?”

“I... well you see Junior over here got hungry and decided that it would be fun playing soccer in my tummy till he gets my attention which he did. So I came into the kitchen to see what is there to eat, but didn’t find anything that I wanted then I remembered that we have chocolate chips left so”

“So you wanted to bake cookies” said Peter with a beautiful grin.

“Oh you know me so well, Mr. Husband” you cooed as you pecked his lips.

He smiled at the gesture and shook his head at your cute antics.

“Well then, since you’re going to be baking cookies I might as well help you. Now go on sit down, and let me do the rest.”

With that he sent you out of the kitchen and put the cookies in the oven and cleaned the kitchen as you eagerly waited for them to be done.

You walked back into the kitchen to see if your treats were ready to eat instead you were faced with your husbands back who was in the process of cleaning the dishes.

“wait what are you doing here” you poked Peter’s arm. “i woke up when you kissed me” he shrug as he continued to do the dishes. “you know babe i really thought i was gonna get something more than just a kiss on the forehead since....well you know.... you were up during fuckboy hours but i guess not” he pouted and then winked “and since we are up now” he sang wiggling his eyebrows, you hit his arms laughing.

“Peter” you gasp “how can you say that and in front of your son ” you faked a shocked expression as Peter jokingly started to strip out of his pjs.

‘wow a dinner and a show im so lucky’ you thought as you took a bite of a cookie.

—————————————————————

“ OMG BABE!!!!” Peter’s screams rang through the house.

“What what is? What happened? Who died” you came in as fast as you could while you held onto your belly.

“Honey walk slowly you might get hurt” Peter extended his arm for you to take and gently put you down on you shared bed.

“Nothing like that happened but I just realized that you due date is in a week!!!” He exclaimed. “ IN A WEEK!”

“Can you imagine it? A mini me will be waking around this very spot in a week, Y/n can you imagine!!!” He spoke, his eyes shining with each word.

You smiled “ well he won’t be walking yet but YES IM SO EXCITED! Oh that reminds me, I kind of bought some more baby clothes the other day with Nat. Only because they were so cute!” You gushed. “You should’ve been there Peter that store is magical” he laughed at your child like behavior and went to get the bag of clothes from the closet.

“Did you find it?” You asked, getting ready to get them yourself.

“I got it. I got it” he said as he brought a baby blue bag along with a big brown book.

“also look at what I found” he waved your photo album in the air and sat next to you.

“Awe look it’s little Peter with his little willy,” You pointed at your husband’s baby picture.

Peter’s faced became red, he cleared his throat and turned the page to avoid any more of your comments, “well its not so small now is it” he let out of a soft ouch and rubbed his arm because you hit his arm for saying such things near his soon-to-be-born baby

As you looked through the album of memories, you started to feel intense pain in your lower abdomen.

Little driblets of sweat started to from on your forehead and you breathing started to be come more heavy.

Peter noticed the change in your behavior and placed a hand on the small of back to calm you down. You smiled at him weakly, and grabbed his thigh when the pain became unbearable.

“P-peter” you quietly let out, “I-I think it’s time” you said looking in between your legs and saw the small water soaking your pants.

Your water broke.

Peter’s calm expression morphed into a panicked one as he hurriedly took the hospital bag and walked you to the car.

—————————————————————

The dull colors of the Hospital was making Peter feel more nervous than he actually felt. The thought of something happening to you or the baby in the process of the delivery kept running circles in his mind due to the stress and anxiety he was feeling at that moment. He knew he should not be worrying both you and the baby were in perfect condition, but he was not able to get those nasty thoughts out of his mind.

Peter felt someone’s hand be placed on his shoulder he quickly looked up and saw Tony’s warm brown eyes. Tony gave him a reassuring smile and open his arms to initiate a hug. Peter overwhelmed with emotion cried in Tony’s affectionate embrace.

“I’m going to be father” he sobs “I’m going to be Father”. Tony pulled away and looked at Peter in the eye. He cupped his face and whipped the tears away.

“I know you are. You’re going to be a great one at that.” Tony smiled at the boy whom he saw grow into the fine young man he is today.

“IM GOING TO BE A UNCLE YALL!!!!” a loud voice rang through the hall. Peter laughed at the familiar voice. He saw his friend Wade wave at him dressed up as a baby sitting in a baby stroller, he waved at the two men while being pushed by Sam and Bucky.

“He’s so gonna get killed by them by the end of the day” whispered Tony.

“definitely” Peter said laughing.

Peter left his father figure when the nurse came to tell him that the contraction has begun.

—————————————————————

You were sitting on the bed with your baby in your embrace, Peter walked up to you and kissed your chapped lips. He leaned forwards and whispered to you how well you did during this hard process.

“I should go call them,” he kissed the baby and went out.

Peter walked out of the delivery room with a huge smile that light the entire room “you can come see him now” he said and walked back inside to sit beside you on the bed.

Everyone made their way to the room, walking slowly trying not to wake your newborn.

“he is so precious,” cooed Natasha as she softly grazed his skin with her finger. “Can I hold him?” she asked. You nodded and let your best friend hold your baby boy.

“what’s his name” asked Tony as he walked up to the red headed who was caressing the infant.

“Harry Benjamin Parker” Peter said smiling, “Y/n chose it, but next time i will be the one choosing the name for our child” Peter said and you nodded.

“ Next time?” Thor said laughing. “You already planed on the next time Peter?” Thor teased Peter after seeing his face go red.

“Hey, Hey blondie, stop teasing my son, and auntie Nat can I please hold my grandchild?” Tony said showing his pearly whites in order to get Harry.

“Why should you get to hold Harry next!” said Steve. “I am the oldest!”

“No, I should hold harry next,” quipped Thor “It’s always an honor to be held by a god,”

“A god? oh please, let me hold My God Son harry, since I am his god father! I am his Sirius Black,” said Wade.

“Wade we never made you the god father,” Peter quietly let out as he took Harry back from Natasha’s hand in fear that something might happen while everyone is fighting to hold his son.

One of the nurses walked in to your room worried because of the arguing she heard from outside. She would've never thought that one day she would see the worlds mightiest heroes fighting to hold a baby, but here she was.

Furious because this is most certainly not how one acts in a hospital she kicked them out of the room, and lectured them about how to behave in a hospital.

—————————

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strawberry-lemonade · 5 years ago

Text

here is a WIP that i will never finish

------

"Excuse me, but I happen to think Mávri gáta is hilarious. Those puns are spot on."

Aria opened her mouth and paused, before closing it again.

"Zào Fortuna has got spots right?."

"Wait were you trying to aim a pun at her, but then forgot if she had spots?

"Uh, maybe..."

"Dude, you're an idiot in every sense of the word."

Aria hung her head.

"...I know."

"That's nice."

Aria threw a pillow at her before exploding in a fit of giggles.

"Mooncaaaake! You're supposed to give me a hug and say sorry!"

Marinette sighed and blew her nails before turning to look at Aria.

"We both know how that goes down."

Aria sighed and stood up.

"Have you heard from Adrien in the past few days?"

"You know what? I haven't."

"Last time I talked to him, he told me he got a boyfriend."

"He did? Why didn't I know about that?"

"Babe, weren't you on the other line?"

"Uh... I think I fell asleep."

"Wow. You really need to stop staying up all night on commissions."

"Speaking of, any news about that stuff?"

"Well, from what I've heard, my little sister from another mister is traveling to Gotham because her fashion business has taken off. 'The mysterious designer MDC has bypassed Gabriel Agreste in the polls!'

"Well, what you heard is true-'

"I also heard that you get to stay in Wayne Manor and bring a friend. Maybe Sabine?"

"What? And risk her finding out that I parade around the city in spots every night? No thanks."

"Hm. Chloe?"

"The invitation would be wasted. She's already going to Gotham with her mom."

"What about Alya?"

"Since 2 heroes will be out of commission, Rena is going to be needed here."

"I don't know."

Aria collapsed on the bed with a groan before sitting up and smirking.

"Lila."

"Okay. Your guessing privileges have been revoked."

"Noooooo! How else will I find out who you're going to take?!"

"By asking. Like a normal person."

"How dare you assume that I'm normal."

"Now I'm beginning to wonder if I should actually tell you."

"Okay, okay! I'll shut up! Just please tell me who, so I don't have to stay up till 3, guessing."

"I wanted to ask you."

"Uh, I will give you an entire list of reasons why I shouldn't come. Plus, I don't really think they'd let me bring the cat."

"I'm asking right now, and if they say no, then I'll politely decline the invitation."

"I don't want you to miss out-"

"They replied!"

"What? Let me see!"

Aria scrambled off the chaise and scurried over to Marinette, tripping in the process.

"Wait! Let me get up!"

Aria jumped up and stumbled into the desk.

Marinette clicked the email and recited it aloud.

"Dear MDC, your friend's cat will be allowed. If you need to arrange anything to bring your cat on the plane, please do not hesitate to ask.

Aria squealed and hugged Marinette.

"Ok. If we can start packing now, I'll come with you."

"Why do we have to pack now? The trip isn't until Saturday and it's only Wednesday! Can't we just enjoy the first sleepover we've had in a month?"

"Babe, please? I hate procrastinating."

"What are you talking about? You love procrastinating!"

"I don't love it, It just happens to be my default."

"Same difference!"

"Um, no, not the same difference."

"Nyah."

-------

"Dante. I am begging you. Don't turn off the computer yet."

"Aria. it's almost 1 A.M and we both have class tomorrow."

"I knoooow! But I put my fucking heart into this, and if you turn it off right now, it will delete and I have no way of saving it."

"Aria. Go to bed now."

"Nooooo! I have to finish it!"

"Fine. But as soon as the clock gets to 1. I'm turning everything off. Just because you're my favorite doesn't mean I'll let you get away with anything."

"Boi! I let you get away with so many things! Can I not just stay up for another hour to finish a damn design?!"

"Aria?"

"Hi, Minette."

"Are you gonna stay up again while binge-ing on coffee?"

"Maybe..."

"Marinette. Please tell my idiot sister that she needs sleep too."

"Aria-"

"Noooo! My favorites are teaming up to defeat me!"

"Aria. Go. To. Bed."

"No!"

Aria jumped up, seized the computer, shot into the bathroom.

"Ha! Now you can't stop me from finishing this!"

"Okay. I give up. Marinette, she's yours now."

Dante slowly backed out of the kitchen with his arms raised.

"Aria. Come out. Please. It's not a sleepover if it's only one person. Plus I need someone to binge-watch movies with!"

"...What kind of movies?"

"Um, MIB International, Charlie's Angels, Hanna, Atomic Blonde, La Femme Nikita-"

"I'm in. Just give me a second."

The sound of shuffling around could be heard in the unusually silent house. The bathroom door opened to show a dark room a few seconds later, and Aria emerged holding a closed laptop.

"I thought it wasn't going to save?"

"Yeah uh, I lied. I just wanted to keep working."

"Geez. I bet you'll be the only person in Gotham like this."

"Well, I do try to be unique!"

"Okay, we need to finish packing."

"But what about the movies?!"

"We'll watch them while we pack."

"Yay!"

-------

Five movies and two panic attacks later:

"Mooncake! Do you know where my-"

"Beanie? Downstairs in the tardis."

"Oh my gosh, thank you! I need to take a shower, are you almost finished packing?"

"Yeah, two more outfits and I'll be done."

"Kay. My phone is charging next to the window, the password is 314159, the flashy purple app turns on the TV."

With that, Aria walked out of the room and shut the door. Not even 2 minutes later, the sound of running water could be heard, along with the song 'Consideration' blasting through the house. Marinette shook her head and laughed.

"Geez Ari. Too loud."

Marinette folded the last outfit and placed it in her suitcase. Walking over to the window, she was attacked by Aria’s cat.

“Ack! Get off!”

Marinette started to try and shake the cat off and Kiro released her leg. She jumped onto the bed and yanked her legs up to avoid any further scratches. The door slammed open to reveal a soaking wet Aria in a towel. She still had soap bubbles in her hair and it had stuck to her face while she was running.

“I heard a screech! Is everything okay?”

Marinette stared for a second longer before laughing so hard she fell off the bed.

“OH MY GOSH! Did you just- holy crap! The cat just jumped on me!”

“...are you freaking kidding me? I literally jumped out of the shower to see what in the world was going on. I thought you were being abducted.”

“I’m so sorry! I just-” Marinette collapsed into another fit of giggles.

“Okay, since you’re obviously fine, I’m gonna go finish my shower. Next time, don’t screech unless it’s an emergency. Now my clothes are wet because of my idiocy. Goodbye, Little Missy Macaron.”

Aria walked out of the room, leaving Marinette to try and clean up the water mess. She just threw a towel over the puddle.

Aria walked into the bathroom while shaking her head slowly. She picked up her phone and pressed shuffle on her playlist. Once again, a song started blasting through the house.

————

Marinette grabbed Aria’s phone and unlocked it. She pressed the purple icon that Aria had told her about and clicked the red power button at the top. Nothing happened.

Right. The TV is downstairs.

Marinette sighed and checked under the bed before leaving the safety of the mattress. She picked up her two suitcases and took them downstairs. 5 minutes later, the sound of gunshots and suspenseful music coming from the living room rivaled the pop music coming from the upstairs bathroom.

—————-

Dante, Evita, and Armando came home to three girls shouting and running around, with another standing off to the side and filming. Chloe and Alya had come over to help after Aria had gotten out of the shower. Though it quickly turned into Chloe chasing Aria around and trying to get her to put on some clothes that weren’t covered in paint, and Alya filming Marinette freaking out about losing her deodorant.

“Dante! I stole your Pikachu boxers because they were in my drawers!” Aria ran past him, a disgruntled Chloe in hot pursuit.

“Why do I care?”

“Just thought you should know in case you start looking for them while I’m gone!”

“Speaking of being gone, shouldn’t you guys get going? Your flight leaves in 4 hours.”

“Crap! Evita! Do you have work soon? Can you drive us to the airport?”

“Can’t you guys just bike?”

Aria stopped and stared at Evita incredulously. Chloe didn't slow down quick enough and slammed both girls into the ground.

“Okay, we have like, 4 bags each, and the airport is like 45 miles away. ”

“Okay. I’ll take you, but I do have to work soon so we have to go now.”

“Okay. Akiv! Stop! Do you have your bags?”

“Yes, Ari.”

“Mooncake! Are you ready?”

“I NEED DEODORANT.”

“We can get some at the airport.”

“GAH! Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

The three girls ran to give Alya a hug before they left.

“Bye Als! Love you!”

“Adios, Vixen! Te Quiero!”

“Salut Alya!”

——————-

ONE EXCRUCIATINGLY LONG CAR RIDE LATER:,

Marinette, Aria, and Chloe stepped out of the Envoy and took their bags out of the trunk.

“Zai Jian, Evita! Wǒ ài nǐ!”

“Adios Mija! Te Quiero mucho!”

Aria gave Evita a hug before slinging her book bag and purse over her shoulder and pulling her suitcase over to the entrance. The girls watched the car drive off before turning and walking into the airport.

“Ay Dios Mio…”

“What?”

“Look at the lines!” Aria gestured over to about fifty people standing in front of a counter.

“Oh, mon Dieu.”

“Um, no. Look at your tickets. We have first-class. Which is the line over there.” Chloe pointed over to a short line with only a few people.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Marinette sighed as she scanned over her plane ticket.

“Wait, really?” Aria scrambled for the small slip of paper in her wallet, accidentally dropping it.

A young male, probably around 15, picked it up. He smiled and held it out to her.

“Here you go, m’lady”

“Thanks, bro,” Aria grunted.

The boy froze for only a second, but it was long enough for her to pluck the leather contraption out of his hand and walk away with the other girls. When they were out of earshot, they all burst out laughing.

“Oh my gosh! Did you see his face when you called him ‘bro’?!”

“That was hilarious,” Aria wiped tears from her eyes.

“Welp, now we know how she keeps guys away.”

“Who knew it was so simple?”

“No. It’s simple for me. I am the Goddess of repellent. You two are mere mortals.”

“She’s right! Oh, Great One! We are unworthy of your presence, but we beg to learn your ways!” Marinette got down on one knee, with one hand over her heart and the other being held out to Aria.

“Oh, get up Mooncake. They’re looking at us crazy again.” Chloe pulled the smaller girl onto her feet and ruffled her hair.

Marinette giggled, then bowed and took Aria’s hand.

“I am forever indebted to you for teaching me.” She kissed the brunette’s hand before standing up straight again.

“Mooncake, I love you, but that was the weirdest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Thanks, Abelle.”

“No problem babe.”

Aria rolled her eyes.

“Next!”

The girls looked up to see it was their turn in line.

“Please place your bags in the designated area.” The lady behind the desk gestured to a wire container.

Marinette looked to the side and placed her suitcase into the basket. The other girls quickly followed suit.

“Names?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Aria Couture.”

“Chloe Bourgeois.”

The lady typed their names into the computer before waving them away. Marinette saw the dull look in her eyes and pulled out 3 macarons before whispering something and smiling.

“Excuse me, Madame? Here are a few macarons. I hope you have a nice day!”

Marinette picked up her bags and walked away with her friends. She didn’t miss the small smile that appeared on the woman’s face.

“So, what’d you do to the cookies?”

“Let’s just say the rest of her week will be much better.”

“Minette, I have absolutely no idea what you're implying, and at this point, I'm too scared to ask.”

————

“This is why I hate flying. I’m already exhausted and we haven’t even been at the airport for 2 hours.” Marinette groaned.

“We’re done with all the security stuff, and our suitcases are already boarding the plane, which basically means we can currently do whatever we want. And don’t you still need deodorant?”

“Ugh. You’re right. Let’s go.”

Aria grinned and walked towards a sandwich restaurant.

“Aria, where are you going? The toiletries place is over there.” Marinette pointed to a little kiosk next to the bathrooms.

“Come on. You didn’t really think we would get deodorant before we got food, did you?”

“...I am kind of hungry…”

“Let’s go then!”

Aria grabbed Marinette’s right hand and Chloe’s left hand and yanked them over to the restaurant.

——————

“Flight Number 763, First class, Now boarding.”

Aria jolted awake at the sound of the announcement. She looked over at Chloe and Marinette sleeping peacefully and contemplated waking them up. She'd rather not lose an eye, or two.

Chloe woke up as the brunette picked up a small pink bookbag.

“Good morning Chlo,” Aria yawned.

“...hi Ari.”

Grabbing all of their backpacks, she took the tickets and passports out and walked over to the admittance booth.

“Tickets please."

“Here,” Aria handed him all three tickets and passports.

Aria looked up at the man in the booth.

“Can we go in or do you need sleeping beauty over here to confirm something,” Aria pointed at Marinette.

“Um. You can go in…”

“Thanks, have a nice day!”

The girls walked to the plane and found their seats quickly. Chloe helped Aria set Marinette down and put the carry-on bags in the capsules above them. Both girls fell back asleep about 10 minutes after they buckled up.

——————

GOTHAM:

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pchlarz · 5 years ago

Text

Minecraft could have such a cool lore and game mechanics

So I played minecraft since I was like 13 or something, when the thing was still in early beta. I still play it, but after half an hour tops I just lose interest and quit. The game isn’t challenging, the world seems empty and npc and animals like wind up toys than anything else. I know minecraft is a canvas you have to paint on, but I was always more into the idea of Minecraft as a world you have to tame and grow into. There are mods that do that, like rlcraft (which im not gonna play cause the lycanite mobs don’t fit into the games art style and ice and fire mobs are straight up unfair). And you know, since I have a script, dissertation, stop motion animation to do this semester for my Filmmaking Uni, I’ve been thinking about minecraft a lot. Procrastination, am I right my dudes?

I have no idea how to make mods, I can barely use Java to install Optifine for crying out loud, but I can write a couple hundred words post on this hellsite that no ones gonna read, cause it’s literally my first post, and no one can stop me! Also maybe somebody’s gonna get inspired and make it. No need to credit me, just let me play it XD

The World and Lore, I guess

So, let’s get one thing straight... Is the Minecraft world post apo? Like let’s be real for a second. The player is the only human specimen in the entire world. There are villigers that are vaguely humanoid, but they are definately “The other” some ofshoot of the human race than actual human beings. Zombies and skeletons seem to share the player’s anatomy but they’re undead, therefore dead, therefore had to be alive at some point. So yeah, let’s work with that!

Let’s say that in a distant future, like distant enough for new subspecies of homo sapiens had time to evolve with enough pressure. The human world died after they opened the portal to the End. This allowed magic to seap into the world, boosting the technology but also corrupting people it cam across with. Like why is the Ender Dragon dropping more exp than your PC is able to handle? Cause she’s the source of all magic! Why do monsters drop it? Cause it’s what reanimated/mutated them. So according to this, fucking with the eldritch magic balls is what created the zombie virus, destroying the human race. Also the End is the moon. Like not our moon. Opening the portal didn’t just link the worlds together, it straight up teleported the End into the earth orbit, destroying the native moon and replacing it. And that’s why the monster’s only come up night, cause that’s when the End holds the most influence over the overworld.

But what about the villigers? Just descendents of humans who have survived the apocalypse. Some adopted peaceful agrocultural approach to survive, sharing and caring and being lovely anarchocommunist communities. The other ones living according to the “Survival of the Fittest” evolving into the illigers. But that’s only the two races that are already in the game. Since it’s supposed to be a mod adding shit, lets get some new races! The dwarves have been talked about by the developers so let’s add them. Shorter and stockier than humans, with glowing eyes and not so much beards as just thick fur on their bodies. The underground is cold after all. Also descended from humans, this time those that had enough brains to burrow themselves underground.They just chill in caves, building something like big ant colonies. You could trade with them just like villigers, although instead of emeralds they’d want silver (We need like shitload of new ores, my good people). Oh, and they wouldn’t be pacifist like villigers, if you piss them off, they will mine you to pieces. You could also find them in random caves mining their own business (XD) and by business i mean resources you could mine yourself. And so if you’re a bellend, you could straight up murder them and grab their stuff and have your ores left unmolested. Or you could pay them off to share the loot, giving you a temporary partner with basically x ray vision, leading you to more ores, than you’d find yourself. But at the end of the day, you’d be obligated to split what you found 50/50, meaning that you could get more stuff than on your own, or less, depending on your in real life luck. Boom, reasons for morals.

I’d like to see a basic faction system, based on which aspect of the game the player finds most appealing. If you’re the kind of a peaceful player who just wants to build and farm, the villigers are your people. They’d gladly take you in if you build, farm and trade for them. If you’re into conquest and looting Pilligers could use your skill to cut some Villigers throats. And if you want mining and exploration, The dwarves wll take you in. Ofcourse you can just be your own person and solo the entire thing, and no one will nag you.

Character Customination and Skills

I want roleplay, man. Skins are cool but what if on one save I’m the peaceful farmer, developing my village and chilling with my bros, but on other I’m the fucking antichrist, burning them to the ground and taking what I want? Do I just swap my skins depending on what world i’m gonna play today? I quess I could, but that’d be hardly graceful. So let’s just put proper character creation into the game, with ethnicity, hair models and all that other bling. Ideally you’d also be able to paint on your characters if you want scars or tatoos or just dont want to look human. Clothing on the other hand would be a seperate system linked to the survival system. But more about the clothing system later.

Also since Minecraft is getting slack for becoming more of an RPG when it got its full release, lets embrace that. I’d split them to Gathering, Combat and Crafting skills.Gathering would include your tool proficiency, allowing you to skip enchanting altogether while still getting some upgrade for your tools. Also chances for more resource drops or just getting new utilities from the tools. Any movement releated skills should also be there for simplicity sake. Combat is self explanatory, if we add different weapons types, than there has to be some incentive for specialization. Some skills for combat overall wouldn’t go unwelcome. Dodging, parry without a shield, throwing various weapons and stuff like that. Crafting would be for the new weapon customization, enchanting (including proper spell casting wands) and alchemy. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves with that.

Custom Tools, Weapons and Armor

Doesn’t it bug you that on multiplayer server everyone just walks around in enchanted diamond eq, throwing all sense of individuality out of the window. Do you like the idea of roleplaying as a cave men the entire game, but the stone sword doesn’t really give you that opportunity? Well let’s do something about it. Instead of vertical tool and weapon progression let’s do it horizontally. Lets take a bit more realistic approach to crafting. Stone tools have to knapped and assembled, bronze has to be casted, iron hammered into shape and wood carved. All types of materials have their drawbacks. Knapping tools would just need you to pick a stone in your offhand and the crafting material of your choice in your main and right click. And from there you get the list of shapes you can knap your stone into. And after choosing the tool/weapon type of your liking you knap it again to customize the shape more. Do you want your hatchet to look like a primitive piece of sharp rock or a skillfully crafted tomahawk? Casts for soft metals and wooden objects would be made in the same way, just with a carwing knife instead of stone and wax or wood for the crafting material. Than just put your cast into clay to get a mold. Fire the mold, craft a crucible and pour the molten metal into the mold. Change the anvil from an enchanting tool into a proper workbench for your hard metals. Then craft some handles, guards or accesories and put them all together in your crafting window. Different materials would have different pros and cons. Stone tools have low durability but don’t have any wear mechanic. Wood rots, Soft metals can bend and have to be straightened and hard metals rust and have to be cleaned. Also no tool progression. What you can mine depends on your mining level. Right now you can easily get diamond on yout first day if you mine deep enough. Locking it over a skill tree would pace the games more high tier materials more naturally. Also diamonds are classed as knapped material. No diamond swords for you, but a diamond macuhuitl is totally cool. Just craft a wooden sword of your choice and add some diamond blades in the crafting.

Armor would be split into classes, Light, Medium and Plate. You can’t make armor out of stone (so no diamond armor either, but you could encrust your other armor with it) but you can make wooden plate. Just for the heck of it. Different armor classes would affect your stamina meter differently.

Guns!!!

I’m not a gun nut, but hey we have gunpowder in the game. Let’s add guns. But just the flintlock ones, atleast the ones made by the player. They could be made out of anything even stone, just for the heck of it. They would be crafted like any other weapon. But shooting them would be expensive with all the gunpowder you’d have to loot from creepers (I like the idea of dead creepers burning away, giving you only a short window to loot them) or craft from sulfur, a new rare resource. Still they’d pack quite a punch and make hella noise, bringing all the monsters to you. Also long reload time, they’re flintlock after all.

Also lets adhere to an old fantasy trope and make them unenchantable. Their op as they are.

Animals and Looting

Just add more animals. Add more predators, so the day isn’t just a cake walk. Add predators hunting. Pray running from a player simply approaching. Give me a run for my food. Animals reproducing on their own. If you want to tame livestock or pets than you better hope for a rare domesticated kind of animals or trap and break them enough for them to let them eat from your hand.

And what about hunting. If you manage to kill an animal, it doesn’t just disappear and live porkshops in the cloud of smoke. Every killed entity just turns into a corpse that you have to manually loot, while holding a sharp weapon (for simplicity sake). All of them drop their hide (acting kinda like armor with its own durability, on which depends how much letter you’ll get from it, thus encouraging clean one hit kills), a lot more meat (so you don’t have to slaughter an entire herd just to have something to eat) and bones. Also food would spoil now, to discourage hoarding it. But there would be workarounds like salting it or drying it for jerky.

Various animal hides could act as trophies (if you’re a cunt) or for crafting special clothing items or beds (since proper wool would be much harder to come by now).

Monsters and the Night

Same deal as in the main game. Mostly undead with some mutated mobs like creepers and phantoms. The only hostile mob I’d add would be Vampires, who would follow the player and try to score a hit while you’re unaware. Of course they’d be rather rare. Enderman on the other hand... Let’s raise them to the mini boss standard. When they were announced I was hyped, that they’ll be a proper horror mob that you could be genuinely terryfied of. But no, they just vibin’ most of the time. So let’s change them. Since in the new lore the undead are humans corrupted by magic, enderman should be the remnents of the humans who have gone and got trapped in the End, turned into the Dragons army. And now their job is to stalk you and kill you. You still have to look at them for them to turn hostile, but now they don’t care if you only looked at them from the distance. If they can see you and you can see them, they attack. Give them proper range. Let them teleport behind you to score a hit. Put blocks in your way if you try to run. They could pick you up and teleport with you next to ledges (they shouldn’t just be able to throw you over the edge, let’s give players a fighting chance). They should also steal more valuable blocks than just dirt. Let them target specifically blocks placed by the player, allowing them to pick holes in your defenses for other mobs to get to your house.

The night itself would change. For the first couple nights there should be no monsters. The rise of the undead according to the new lore is the Dragon learning about the new human in the world trying to slow them down from discovering the End portal. But for the first few nights it would be unaware of your existance, letting you to get comfortable. But when the first full moon hits, The dragon saw you and she will let you know she sees. And from then on, every night the undead horde will rise to haunt you, only resting during the eclipse (since the dragon can’t see). On the other hand the full moon would be equivalent to the blood moon from terraria. With mobs more aggressive, able to break your doors and forcing you to defend yourself. Also you wouldn’t be able to sleep during the full moon. If you manage to fall asleep, you wake up dead with mobs spawned all over your house. Also the mobs don’t burn in the sunlight. When the night ends, they just disapear like Enderman.

The mobs right now spawn only on active chunks, but let’s add a lore reason for it. They’re targeting you. This is why going to a village means bringing the horde to them. And if you don’t fight or they kill to many, the viligers will add two and twoo together, banishing you from their dwelling. The illigers will just turn hostile. The dwarves won’t mind since the undead are plentiful underground anyway.

Also give me my Overworld Dragons. Like proper fire breathing ones. Kinda like the ones from Ice and Fire but actually managable and not the size of goddamn school.

Survival Mechanics

Let’s add thirst. You can’t just drink any water ofcourse, so while food means you have to scavenge or hunt, thirst encourages you to either find drinkable streams or distill the water. Eventually just drink juices or booze. Yeah, let’s add booze. Just for fun, with all the stuff i’d want to add the game wouldn’t be kid friendly anyway.

You have to sleep now. Unslept nights cut your stamina meter by 25% while also bringing the phantoms to you. You can sleep without a bed, but you’re risking temperature debuffs and less stamina regen.

Temperature. With adding seasons and all the clothing option it seems reasonable (also i loved it in don’t starve). To not make the HUD to cluttered I’d just display the temperature on your heart meter, having them freeze over for cold and dry out for hot. Dried and frozen hearts wouldn’t be included in your hp pool, meaning that temperature makes you weaker. You could fight the temperature with proper clothing, fire or ice. Although the hot temperatures would be more forgiving, just making you lose water faster and being managable with shadow from blocks.

Clothes would have their own slots, be made in their crafting table and heavily customizable like banners and letter armor, giving proper use for all the dyes we have. They could also be drawn on like player skins. You could also wear some of them on armor, allowing for further character customization. They’d have their own durability, but be easily repairable. Aside from temperature protection they would be mostly cosmetic and if you don’t like the idea of having to wear a coat in the winter, just enchant your shorts with some frost protection.

Hunger would be overhauled slightly, letting you to get fat from food. But just like in real life FAT IS YOUR FRIEND (just you now, moderate amounts). It let’s you absorb all foods value even with a full bar. Still to much of it will slow you down and make your stamina bar go down faster. Oh and it’s no longer your stamina bar, that’s a seperate thing now, indicated by a small lighting bolt icon above your exp level. Still a full food and water bar is nessecary for healing.

Enchanting

Bookshelves no longer make the enchantments stronger. Atleast not the decorative ones. Instead you have to enchant books on your own hoping for the “Arcane Knowladge” enchantment, which can’t be put on anything but, if you put a book with it in the bookshelf it will raise the enchantment cap. So does leveling your enchanting skill, as well as allowing you to see what enchant you’re putting on your stuff, as you grow more fluent in the language of magic. Enchanting would also be more powerfull in the night, as that’s when the End - The birthplace of magic is the strongest. This also means that enchanting during the full moon would create the most powerful enchantments, if you can manage to enchant while the undead hordes attack. And they will try to get to you as an active enchanting table is drawing them closer.

Different materials have different enchantibility. Pracious metals are overall more conductive, while obsydian might make fire enchantments stronger. This would come into play mostly when crafting staffs!

While Guns are unenchantable, Staffs are just weak pole weapons without magic. But enchanting them let’s you pick a spell for them, like lightinig bolt, healing, stuff like that. One staff can hold only one enchantment and casting spells uses exp points meaning that you’d need quite a big pool to be able to just be a mage. While staffs are two-handed you can also make wands to cast with your offhand. Ofcourse they’d be less powerful to balance things out.

As the Anvil is now a crafting station, the Arcane Anvil would take it’s place made from obsidian and golden bars. While we’re at it lets also think about Arcane Chests to store your exp.

Player Death

Why can the player just live after death? Well depends on difficulty. If you want to lose your stuff but keep the skills, it’s because the last humans put a spell on you allowing you to be uneffected by the corruption and also be linked into the world, cursing you to wake up from dying in the last place you slept, making you think if your death was just a dream. If you want a more hardcore experience then it’s because they cast a spell of reincarnation on you, so you don’t come back as the exact same person, having to work upon the achievements of your predessecors (I have no idea how to write that, I’m polish okay?). And if you just want straight up hardcore, they sent you to the future, with only one chance to make things right. Applies to the multiplayer, there’s just more of you that have been cursed.

If you find your dead body you can loot it. But on the reincarnation difficulty all the food, potions, weapons and armor you had will have long rot away. A lot time passed afterall.

The Stronghold and the End

So if you actually read so far, I love you and congratulations. I’m writing this while I’m high, so it probably doesn’t make much sense. Still, thanks!

So... Strongholds suck. Let’s get rid of them. Instead let’s put the End Portal in a new rare biome. The Ruins! They would be a large decimated city from before the apocalypse, now overtaken by vegetation with undead present even in the daylight. The magic is right in the heart of the city after all. The undead are much more powerfull here, some even having modern weaponry like assult rifles. They can be looted, but they’re all falling apart and you can’t craft them. But you could repair them and use them. They’d be end game unenchantable gear. Enderman also stalk the city, so you’d have to be prepered for them. You still find the city with the eyes of ender, but this time crafted with a compas and obsidian to create the Ender Compass, cause fuck throwing balls into the air. The End Portal is in the heart of the city in the special dungeon called the Crumbling Facility. It’d be a long parkour challange with you having to reach the top while also fighting for your life. “But Pchlarz”, I hear you saying, “You could just build across or up, this is Minecraft”. Well no, cause the building would be made from gravity affected blocks, meaning that if you do, the whole thing falls apart. As for building up, try to do that while being shot from every direction. What if the tower falls? Well, the End Portal awakes spawning more monsters and moving to the height limit. So now you would have to build straight up, while the Enderman teleport to your position and try to throw you off. But if you get there, the Portal is your to enter.

And so you do. Before you stands a temple build in the center of the New Moon. The towers are still there and the Dragon still heals from them. The temple is built from blocks the Enderman took from you (not just them ofc) You destroy the crystal and fight the dragon. It picks you up, throws you around, breathes Black fire (purple is ugly, sorry guys). You chip at its health and finally you bring it to half. And thats when the dragon falls into the temple with broken wings. Now it’s a ground battle. Now you have cover, but the temple is destructable. It’s blocks affected by gravity. Finally you kill the dragon. It imbues you with its magic and drops it’s heart. Still beating, Scarlett and glowing. The Enderman stand around you, their eyes no longer white (yeah i dont like purple), but now inteligent with pupils. They seem thankful. You’ve won. The end stone around you starts crumbling, falling into the void. And there’s no way back home. You start to accept your fate. You’ve sacraficed yourself to end the Undead horde’s reign. And thats when an Enderman takes you by the hand. You walk to the edge of the crumbling world and gaze into the blue globe staring at you from the abyss. It’s the Earth. But you wouldn’t survive the impact. Not from space. That’s when you see the Enderman holding something, with his hand stretched out to you. He’s holding a pair of wings. The Elytra. You put them on, say goodbyes to the newly freed Enderman and dive into the world beneath you, watching as the tall figures behind you die with their dying world.

You crush into the earth. With half a heart you drag yourself to safety. The Ender compass now points the way to your bed. You walk. Victorious.

Endgame

So you’ve beat the game. What’s now? Well the Enderman are no longer hostile. And the dragon heart? You can put it into your alchemy station and turn it into the potion of resurection. While the zombie villigers could be cured with a golden apple and the potion of weakness, the human zombies need this one. The skeletons are to far gone, but zombies and vampires can be turned back. The Dragons Heart can never be used, but if you lose it, well it sucks to be you hero.

With cured humans you can create a village and start rebuilding. You can have relationships with them, turn them into companions and even have children with them (i like stardew valley okay). And with their numbers growing it’s up to you if you will live in peace with new races populating the world or reestablish the human reign on earth.

Okay this took me like three hours and the weed is wearing off. I think way to much about minecraft, maaan. Still hope you like it. And make this mod for me. I’d be grateful.

#minecraft #modding #Lore #steve

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livingasaghost · 5 years ago

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buckle up bitches we’re reflecting on high school tonight!

recently i’ve been dwelling a lot on ~the past~ mainly high school and it’s been really interesting because i feel like i can look back on everything more clearly now than i used to. like i’ve finally gotten enough space and perspective that it feels...distant. but also if i think too hard i can physically remember it all.

like part of what made high school such a TIME was that i had just started exploring other parts of the internet - obviously i got a tumblr, but i spent a majority of my time reading random blogs and stalking flickr profiles (this was pre-instagram my dudes) and watching youtube videos. and all of that resulted in me creating this version of myself that i thought didn’t exist. the one who read a bunch of cool books and wore rings and cute clothes, who ran a successful blog and took photos on her film camera all the time and wrote songs and posted them on the internet. who made playlists and mix cds and drove around in a janky mini-van (except it was ~cool~ ya know?) and went to bonfires with her friends and stayed up late watching movies at sleepovers....and it all felt like this dream i could never achieve. i just kept seeing it happen to other people and i pretended i was living their lives while i just sat on my couch after school eating cereal and watching reruns of what i like about you. and in truth, i do recall feeling very stuck. i was bored, didn’t have access to a car most of the time, and i also just like...didn’t WANT to go out into the world. i was really depressed and scared and i wanted everything to stay the same forever. (and plus i had a SHITTON of homework to do every night.) but in truth, looking back, i...had that life. that romantic life i wanted. maybe not to the extent that i expected, maybe not in a way that was truly as aesthetically pleasing as i wanted, but it was there. i did all those things. i had a stereotypical high school life. and hell i even did all that PRE-smart phone!!! which was actually great.

it’s just kind of shitty that for YEARS i convinced myself that my life wasn’t enough. like i spent all those months sitting on my parents’ couch on my laptop going “OH WOE IS ME I WISH MY LIFE WERE LIKE THIS PERSON’S!” but like.....did i not notice my parents making me dinner every night? did i not see all the stupid film i developed like a pretentious asshole? did i not notice all the cool books i was reading or the music i was listening to? it just sucks that i was romanticizing a life i already had and i COULDN’T RECOGNIZE THAT!!! so then, as i was considering all this, i wondered if maybe i was doing that now. if i have a life now that is what i actually want it to be but i’m so blinded by all the things i want to change that i can’t recognize it for the beautiful thing it is. like true the last 3 years have been hell and they’ve been weird and they changed me as a person, but goddammit they have been SPECTACULAR! and i don’t appreciate this time enough! i was in my early twenties and doing so many cool things - my job was so WEIRD! so unique! so interesting! - and yet at the end of the day i was still kinda depressed and upset with where i was at in life. i didn’t appreciate a damn thing.

growing old is interesting because you do get a chance to reassess your life every few years and you start seeing patterns and unhealthy ways of thinking, and yet you’re still you. like if 2010 jenna showed up we could talk for hours bc genuinely i still love 80% of the stuff she did. but i’d also have a stern talking to her about stuff like her political beliefs and the career she wants to pursue and the way she handles procrastination and her diet and her self-talk and so many things. because i recognize now all the weird stuff that was going on back then. i realize now that A BITCH SHOULD’VE GONE TO THERAPY BC SHE WAS DEPRESSED! but i couldn’t recognize it then. i didn’t realize a lot of things bc i was just young. and i’m sure in 10 years i’ll think “oh god remember when you were 24 and you thought you had it all figured out?” which is also pretty cool. because if i’m confident in who i am as a person right now, if i’m happy with myself and my life and my work, then that must mean that after ten more iterations of this “self” i will be somewhere INFINITELY better than where i am now. more than that, if it keeps happening, by the time i’m 40, 50, 60, 70, i will be....INCREDIBLE.

humans just love romanticizing things and i find it fascinating that we romanticize the past and the future but rarely the present. like right now i am sitting in my freezing cold room, on my full-sized white-sheeted bed with a fluffy blanket around my legs (i can’t feel my feet they’re so cold) and my hair’s up in a near-perfect messy bun. my room is....incredibly cluttered - i have boxes to my right that i need to pack things in, a suitcase ahead of me that’s overflowing with clothes, my space heater is ON, there’s chickfila on my desk from dinner, and i feel....so content. like it’s a mess, i’m ready to move, but this room has supported me for nearly four years now. i feel at home, happy, blessed. and i know in a few years i’ll be thinking back on this room, on this time, going “oh my god but that gallery wall i had! the lights were so cute! that room had so many bookshelves!!! it was eclectic but damn it was so nice and homey.” and i’ll forget the bugs i had to kill or the fact that i use like 2.5 bathrooms regularly or that the kitchen was gross or that it’s always freezing in the winter or that the hardwood floors were covered in hair...but there’s something romantic about that too isn’t there?

i guess i just miss ten years ago. even though i’d NEVER ever go back to who i was or what i had to do back then (2011-2012 was a bitch and i fucking hate her)...that was the first time i really felt like myself. like when i first found this website i really felt changed as a person. it was a place i felt seen, understood, where i could fully express myself even if no one heard me. and the life i lived back then was just...straight out of a stupid ya novel. with difficult classes and my friends inviting me to the occasional sleep over. i miss the stupid honors students who would always be so pretentious. i miss my german teacher who was annoying and loud but who always decorated her room with christmas lights during the winter months. i miss watching what i like about you reruns, honestly. and i miss flickr!!!! a lot! (i know it’s still around but it isn’t the same.) it’s just you never notice when you’re in something until you’re out of it. and then it’s over and all you can do is reflect on it and reminisce and wish you could go back. and even if history repeats itself, it never does so in the same way. like i can reread all my favorite books from ten years ago, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m in a different stage of life, that i can never go back to who i was the first time i experienced all that.

life is just so goddamn long.

i really do wonder what my life will be like looking back on this time in ten years. i wonder where i’ll be then thinking about where i am now. who i’ll be. who i am.

#personal

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chogiwank · 6 years ago

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Fornication - Taeyong | Fluff&Smut (Part 1)

Anon asked: Hey can I request friends with benefits Taeyong fluff,smut please ❣❣❣❣❣

Pairing: Badboy!Taeyong x Nerd!Reader

Genre: Fluff, One Scene of Smut (full smut will be part 2)

Warnings: Oral sex, Adultery/Premarital Sex, Friends With Benefits, (smut occurs mostly after the “Read more”) not100%proofreadOOPS

“That’s it, the prof is being annoying and keeps stacking us with work which...I procrastinated on and didn’t finish. Today is the day I’m skipping class.” The idea of doing such ran chills through her, she’d always been the goodie-two-shoes as others would call her, a teacher’s pet.

“Skip class? On a Saturday? Rebellious.” Her friend chuckled seated beside her on the soft green grass. “Plus it’s 7 in the afternoon, idiot.”

“Ugh shut up.” She rolled her eyes, playfully punching his arm. He laid back on the grass - hands behind his head as a pillow - laughing at her, her thoughts to be mischievous and sneak around without getting caught or give into her own guilt. When they’d met in sophomore year of high school, he’d never seen her do one naughty thing to ruin her reputation - always in class on time, homework done, full participation in class and projects - the whole A+ student, a role model.

On the other hand, he was the complete opposite to her - never participate in school-related activities, lazy, skips class to hook up, piercings, couple tattoos here and there, dyed hair. - a whole bad boy of the school even with the look. Seeing the two together was never really anything you’d think, they both clashed in looks, personality and work habits, their relationship very unexpected.

It all started during junior year in high school, the two were oddly paired up by the teacher in their chemistry class. Y/N gaining dirty looks from other girls of his past and current hookups, Taeyong raising whispers, eyebrows and some cheers from others due to his reputation.

After school, they worked together in the public library to start up the week-long project. Dividing up the work to finish off faster for the day, y/n slightly shocked at Taeyong finishing his part without any objection on time before her.

“You should know I’m not as horrible as everyone makes me out to be.” He chuckled at her expression.

“Oh no, it’s I-“

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” he shook his head with a gentle smile.

“I just didn’t expect you to finish all of it, you don’t look like the type.”

“I might not look like it but I’m actually pretty good at school, despite how much I skip and hate it.” They both laughed.

“I guess I judged wrong, sorry.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“No biggie.” He nodded. “So is this all for today?”

“So far, Yes. Same time tomorrow?” He smiled.

“Yeah sure,” he stood up from his seat packing up his belongings. “Same time.” From there on, the two cooperated on the project for almost a full week, completing it on the 6th day sighing of relief in the library study room as they flopped back onto their chairs.

“Can’t believe it took so much effort to do this.” Taeyong pushed his hair back.

“Maybe if you participate in groups a little more you’d know.” Y/N teased.

“Hey!” Taeyong exclaimed. “I do participate...just while doing the bare minimum.” He pouted, making her giggle.

“You’re a good teammate.”

“That’s only because I didn’t want you pissed at me.”

“Pissed?”

“Yeah, you’re a smart girl and pretty - I figured you’d blow up and hate me if I didn’t do shit.” he shrugged.

“wait, you think I’m pretty?” She raised a brow.

“Well yeah, only an idiot wouldn’t.”

“I think you’re a total player.” She stated.

“Shocker.” He spoke sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“But that’s only from what I’ve heard. Although I’ve always wondered...” she trailed off. “What do you get from skipping classes and so many hookups.”

“To skip class allows me to have freedom from boredom, and the hookups...” Taeyong smirked. “Help me pass time for a period or two.”

“So what you’re saying is that hooking up with multiple girls is just for you to pass time between periods?” She furrowed her brows.

“Basically, but I haven’t had sex with them all - probably three at most. One who was my ex, second when I was drunk, and third this guy who was my neighbour-“

“you had sex with a dude who was your neighbour?” She exclaimed.

“He was hot, his name was Jaehyun if you saw him you wouldn’t blame me because you’d be banging him right now too, sweetheart.” His words brought a blush to her cheeks, her face turning hotter by the second. “Whoa, what’s with all the blushing?” He smirked. “Are you a virgin?”

“Y-yes kind of...” shifting her gaze down on her lap.

“Kind of?” Taeyong cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

“The most I’ve done is have someone finger me and well uh...I’ve had uhh” she stammered off embarrassed to finish her words.

“And what? Oral?” Taeyong threw out guesses.

“No.” She softly spoke.

“Dry hump?”

She shook her head no once again.

“Did you shove a dildo up your vagina?” vigorously shaking her head yes, she covered her red, hot face with the palm of her hands as she heard Taeyong’s laughter echo throughout the room.

“You’re embarrassed because you’ve shoved a dildo in yourself?” Groaning and punching his arm still in a state of embarrassment she placed her head down on the table. “Who’d you think of?” He wiggled his brow at her mischievously.

“What?” She shoots her head up in a whisper-shout.

“Who’s dick did you want but were too afraid to have Ms.Goodie two shoes.” He slumped back in his chair, hands behind his head smirking devilishly waiting for his answer.

“Uh, I... it was...” she stuttered. “You can’t ask that question, Lee!” She stood up from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a personal question!”

“Awe c’mon I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry your secret will be safe I won’t ruin your reputation, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t that she couldn’t tell him, but more so that she wouldn’t. She was afraid of what would happen if she told him, at the same time filled with slight adrenaline and curiosity of what could happen if she did. If she told him the one she thought of was him. That she was interested in him, to know him and how he was. He had good looks, extremely good looks, but his personality was a mystery to him - she wanted to find out about him and for the week she did - feeling slightly more attracted towards him. Although, how could she tell him she thought of him for her sexual fantasies. The role model student desiring for the bad boy, lewd thoughts no one would ever suspect from her, sometimes even surprising herself.

“Is it that senior Jongin is that...ah! Kai?” He stood from his seat walking closer to her with his annoying smirk still plastered on his face. “You two hang out a lot, he seems interested in you.” She nervously shook her head no as Taeyong walked intimidatingly closer to her.

“No? That’s too bad...is it Doyoung? You both are nerds, works pretty well.”

She scoffed. “I still get better marks than him, he is nothing but my mere enemy.”

“Oh yeah?” He took another step closer. “Ten, the Thai exchange student, an attractive guy.”

“He-his looks aren’t really my type.” She moved back as he slowly continued to walk towards her.

Taeyong laughed at her response. “So you’re selfish when it comes to looks?”

“N-no! Not at all I-I’m just saying it-uh he’s not really my type, great guy-g-great personality but not someone I see myself with.”

“Then who do you see yourself with?” Back bumping against the wall she could no longer move away from his intimidating figure who now stood in front of her. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled a shaky breath, gathering her nerves to speak she admit, “you.”

“What?” Processing her answer, moving back looking at the girl who stood trapped between his body and the wall “no way, don’t play like that.” He answered in disbelief.

“I’m not.” She whispered. “I’ve liked you, Taeyong. I don’t know why or how, but I’m interested in you.”

“Might I ask what interest you?” He cocked his head, smirk planted upon his features once again.

“Y-you’re-uHm...it’s basically...”

“What? The goodie-two-shoes wanted some bad boy cock? Are you purely just physically attracted to me y/n?”

She nodded her head, face flushed in pink and burning hot.

“I’ll tell you what, nerd.” Taeyong spoke, “ill make your wishes come true if you do me one favour.” Raising her eyebrows she anticipated for him to continue, “help me with my work - homework, tests and projects - I’ll make your fantasies come true, teach you to loosen up a little while you teach me to tighten up a little. Deal?”

“You do know I’ve never had sex before...”

“I know, I won’t go that far unless you initiate it.”

“Okay, deal. I’ll teach you to be a good boy, you teach me to be bad, Lee.”

“Great sweetheart, so when do we start?”

“Hmm it’s so soon but I don’t think I can wait...” she bit her bottom lip slipping her finger into his belt loop, pulling him closer, “no more work, let’s do it.”

“A little needy?” Taeyong laughed.

“A needy nerd having one of her fantasies come true, yes.” The two connected their lips in a hard kiss, Taeyong gliding his tongue along her lips asking permission for entrance, which she allowed. Leading them to hot open-mouthed kisses and roaming hands on either body. Y/N’s hand up tangled in his hair and down his biceps and back. Whilst Taeyong’s slid down her back down to her back dimples, one slipping into the back of her jeans massaging her ass - an accidental moan escaping her lips - and the other moving up cupping her jaw and occasionally sneaking down to squeeze her breasts. Y/N broke the kiss heavily panting in an attempt to gain air and a proper breathing pace. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“Wonder if I’ll wake up and this’ll end up being some wild dream I’ve had.” Taeyong jokes causing them both to laugh. “Seriously though, I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about anything with you.”

“Oh really?” She raised a brow. “What did you think of?” Attaching her lips to his soft skin on his neck she began to suck and bite, leaving light pink and red marks on him.

“Well for one, this. Just kissing you and having you all over me, definitely thought of that. And boy I fucking love it, keep going sweetheart, please.” Letting out a hiss as she reached his sensitive spot below his collarbone, she sucked and bit down a bit harder causing a purple flower to appear. Satisfied with her work, the corner of her mouth twisted upwards as she changed her gaze to look up at him with devilish eyes. “Secondly,” he gripped her waist lifting her on top of the study table they previously worked on. “I thought of having you in class when everyone was gone just kiss you till you're out of breath and finger you until you’re whimpering because of me. The risk of getting caught by a teacher or another student - the school’s ms.perfect getting wrecked, destroying her reputation of innocence. I thought it was hot, still is.”

“Then do it now, wreck me, babe.” Spreading her legs apart for the boy, wrapping them around his waist as he ground his crotch against hers.

“Fuck, are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so dirty, I love it.” Pushing her down against the table he planted wet kisses on her skin, humping her each time she let out a moan. Shuffling to remove her shirt and play with her boobs. Eventually reaching the spot she wanted him the most - she laid there half naked on the table, bra exposed with hickeys on her breast and chest area, jean and panties pulled down having her legs pushed open with Taeyong between her legs, kissing her thighs up to her vagina. Teasing her he slowly licked up her slit a few times before giving attention to her clit. The sensitivity of it jolting her up with a soft high pitched moan. Soon bringing her to an orgasm with her letting out his name, bringing his ego a boost returning the favour, she gave him a blowjob allowing him his own release, her name coming out in whispers from his mouth - his head thrown back, eyes closed shut and fingers tightly held her hair in a makeshift ponytail.

Hence the two’s relationship started of friends with benefits.

“I’ve always wanted to do something...crazy.” She spoke laying her head down on his chest, the two now facing the blue sky, clouds passing as whatever you imagine them to be.

“Now you’re saying I’m not enough for you?” The boy pretended to be offended, hand over his chest and jaw dropped.

“No, you idiot!” She playfully pinched his arm. “I mean like something craz...ier than you.”

“What might that be?” He raised a brow.

“I want a tattoo.”

Taeyong burst into a fit of laughter at her confession. “Well, that is pretty crazy..for you sweetheart.”

“Shush.” She pouted. “Not everyone rebels like you okay?”

“I know.” He chuckled. “Why don’t we go right now?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, body hairs standing on edge as goosebumps rose on her skin from the sound of the machine ready to pierce into her skin and mark it with something that will always remain.

“I can’t believe you’ve actually convinced me to do this.” She hissed from the needles painting upon her wrist.

“You went along with it, don’t place all the blame on me.” Taeyong put his hands up in defence, chuckling at the girl staring him down with a glare. “Plus, even if you regret it later, at least you’ll remember how much of a good time we had together, sweetheart.”

She sighed as the needles left her skin, relaxing her tensed arm and laughed, “you have a point, I will remember this, and us forever.” smiling taking in the new art piece now permanent on her sensitive red skin. Taeyong sat beside her, his ink covered up by the plastic wrap on it, placing their wrists side by side, he sighs deeply,

“I have a lot I regret in life, but this is the one thing I do not.” flashing a bright smile up at her, his voice full of sincerity. Lovingly taking in Taeyong’s crown for a king and her’s a queen with small roman numerals vertically under marking the day they met,

“You know this just means you can’t ever leave me right?”

“So fuck buddies for life?” he teased.

“Shut up.” she smacked his arm. “You’re annoying.”

“Back at you, nerd.”

———

A/N: so here’s another fanfic after so long woot woot!! badboy!Taeyong is a whole ass concept and I’m in love ??? This man needs to get himself some tattoos he’s not even my bias but wow AN ETHEREAL MAN JUST IMAGINESKSKS this is just the first part so it’s mostly fluff,, the second part should consist of more smut and I’ll try to have it up soon!! thank you for the wait and feedback is appreciated!! <3 - Doyoung’s Darling

#nct #taeyong #nct 127 #nct u #nct 2018 #yuta #jaehyun #moon taeil #johnny #doyoung #mark lee #kun #yukhei #jungwoo #ten #winwin #sicheng #nct smut #nct fluff

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bluegay-redgay · 6 years ago

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This Shit Will Linger - “Dennys, Anyone?”

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379371/chapters/46111951 Word Count: 2,634 Summary: Everyone has made it into NYU!! Of course this calls for a celebration!After a late night of drinking and watching shitty movies, Chrisitne makes an interesting suggestion.(For reference, this is what I picture Michael's PT Cruiser looks like: https://www.autoblog.com/chrysler/pt+cruiser/ ) "We all made it!! We actually got accepted!!" Christine excitedly attempted, and failed, to embrace everyone into a group hug following the very exciting news.

"We better start saying 'hello' to student debt."

"C'mon Jerry! As true as that is, we need to celebrate!!" Brooke smiled as she began to pack her bags.

Yes, that is correct. The SQUIP Squad is officially heading to New York as students of NYU in 6 months!!

Christine followed her passion and decided to major in Musical Theatre with a minor in Asian/Pacific/American Studies, Jenna Rolan wanted to put her curiosity of knowing everything about everyone to use, majoring in Sociology. After a few stressful weeks of going back and forth, Jake settled on Sports Management while Rich went with Chemical Engineering. "It's so badass." He would say in defense, but in reality, Rich just wanted to assure himself a stable job.

To no one's surprise, Michael is going to major in Music Technology while taking a minor in Producing. Chloe went against her parents' demands and chose Individualized Study across the Humanities, "I'm not entirely sure what I want to do yet, but I want to focus on myself. But not by being pretty or whatever, like self-improvement." Brooke was definitely happy to hear that as she happily followed in her mother's footsteps, majoring in Nursing.

Jeremy was the last one to pick a major, continuously procrastinating on his application, but after some advice from Mr. Heere and some reassuring words from his friends, Jeremy decided to stick with his secret dream of Digital Art & Design. Although he typically kept his drawings to himself, Jeremy would occasionally post a drawing/design that he was particularly proud of.

Everyone was happy with their choices, and they were so ecstatic to know that everyone will be attending the same college.

"I think this calls for a chaotic hangout at Dennys! Who's drivin'?" Rich swung his backpack onto his back. "Not Jake, the last time he drove we actually almost ran into a tree." Brooke recalled the group's previous trip, sending Jake a glare.

"In my defense, I was kinda jammin' out so.." Jake didn't have anything else to say, shoving any remaining notebook paper or pens into his bag. "Yeah yeah.. So who can actually drive us there?" Jenna eyed everyone.

It only took a moment before everyone nodded and looked at a certain hoodie-wearing teen. "Michael!!"

The outburst was one thing that unsettled Michael but it was about him. And he wasn't prepared, almost falling off of the desk he was leaning on. Michael pulled down his headphones. "Yes?" Jeremy smiled and wrapped his lanky arm around Michael's shoulders, "Would you be so kind and drive us to Dennys? Pwetty pwease?" as he gave Michael the infamous puppy-dog eyes, Jeremy knew the answer already.

"Fiiiine. But you're paying for my meal." Michael groaned and grabbed his keys from his pocket. It's not like he didn't want to hang out with his friends, he was so happy about being accepted but he wasn't thrilled about moving to a new place, especially New York. It was littered with people. But nonetheless, Michael will try to adjust, if not for him, then for his friends, for Jeremy.

"Sweet! Let's dip!.. Chloe, my love, you're about to- well.." Brooke tried to warn Chloe about her smoothie but it was too late. It practically turned her top pink. "SHIT!! I JUST BOUGHT THIS!!" Chloe immediately dropped anything she was holding trying to wipe off any heavy amounts of strawberry chunks. Unfortunately this included her phone. Luckily, Christine caught it just in time as she was grabbing her book from the floor. "Woah! That was close! You need any napkins, Chlo?" Christine placed the device on a nearby desk. "What does it look like!?- Sorry! I mean, yes. Please." It's still going to take a bit more time, but Chloe has come a long way when improving her anger issues and just her overall attitude towards others.

"Are we done fucking around? I want Dennys!!" Rich lightly punched Jake's shoulder as he waited impatiently.

"Will Michael's car even fit all eight of us?" Jenna recalled the size of Michael's PT Cruiser

"Oh sure, all we have to do is tie like two of us on the roof." Michael chuckled. "But for real, you'll be fine. I think you might have a either sit on the floor or sit in someone's lap. Your choice." Michael headed towards the door, followed by everyone after Chloe decided that she was presentable again.

"Just don't fuck up my car." Michael stated, turning on the engine as they got closer. Jeremy quickly ran over to the passenger seat, it was almost a given that he'd take shotgun. But no one was complaining. Except Jake & Rich.

"C'mon Tall-Ass! At least push up your seat a little! We're crushed back here!!" Rich was basically on Jake's lap at this point. Not that he minded, Jake didn't seem to care either. Their legs had different opinions however.

Jeremy basically liked to lay down while Michael drives, whether it's to catch up on sleep that he's deprived of or to just clear his mind. Either way his seat was totally crushing Jake & Rich's legs, "Fine fine fine... This better?" He moved his seat about two feet, clearing the space immensely.

"Yes sir! Thank ya very much." Rich slid down Jake's legs a bit as he relaxed, pulling out some chips that were stuffed in his backpack.

"Can we go now?! It's hella crowded back here." Jenna complained, trying to not impale Christine's chest with her elbow.

"You guys asked Michael to drive, this is what you get." Jeremy looked at her through the rear-view mirror.

"Honestly, anything's better than Jake's driving." Brooke muttered under her breath.

"Do you wanna fight? I was not tryna get called out like this." Jake placed his hand over his heart as he continued his dramatic monologue, "I thought we were friends Brooke. I cannot believe that you'd betray me in such a way- Holy shit!!!"

His sentence was nearly cut off as Michael slammed the brakes. "What the fuck, Michael?!" Rich held the back of the passenger's seat tightly.

"A damn truck cut me off, nearly hitting me. You're welcome for not getting you hurt." Michael snapped back, continuing the drive, if a bit more cautious.

Jeremy looked at Michael and could tell immediately that he was panicking a bit, "Want someone else to drive on the way home?" Michael stayed silent for a moment, "No. It's fine. Just people being complete dumbasses." Jeremy nodded and scolled through Instagram. He was very aware that Michael can get serious road rage despite being calm almost 24/7.

"It'll be the first entrance to the right after this exit, Michael." He nodded and changed lanes, "Thanks Christine."

"Hey! Lovebirds, might wanna wrap that make-out session up soon. We're pretty much there." Jake called out, and he was right: Chloe & Brooke were practically sucking each other's faces off. "Fuck off, Jake." Chloe eyed him from her periphery vision. "We're having a moment."

"You were at my wedding, Denise." Jake scoffed. He then saw the iconic logo signalling his stomach to growl rather loudly.

"I guess that means that we're here. Let's roll! I can't feel my legs." Jenna practically shoved Rich & Jake out of the car, finally free. "Yes!! Now let me stuff pancakes in my mouth!" She ran off with with everyone to grab a booth and potentially raid the kitchen.

Jeremy was about to join them when he noticed that Michael hadn't even moved from his seat, "Micha? You good, dude?" Michael tensed at the question but slowly nodded, "Y-Yup.. I'm great.." His hands started to shake and his chest was rising faster as the seconds passed, "...N-No.." Tears suddenly flowed down his cheeks, it was as if a dam was just broken down.

Jeremy immediately hugged him, rubbing small circles on his back. He didn't say a word, he learned from personal experience that words of reassurance isn't always the best solution. Sometimes it's just a simple hug and letting the other cry it out, but not alone. Not again.

"I'm.. I'm sorry Jer... I-It's just.. I'm stressed? I-I mean we just.. we just got accepted into f-fucking college!.. We'll.. We'll be moving to a new state, shit to the m-most populated city in fucking America!.. And.. And the d-debt.. I guess it's just... piling up on me.." Michael sniffed as he rubbed his eyes with his hoodie.

Jeremy smiled and only tightened his hug a little. "Dude I get it. I completely understand, I mean it IS fucking stressful but here's the thing: I'll be there with you throughout the entire journey. We made it a two-player game, right? That's gonna continue throughout college and even when we're old geezers with white hair. You have my word." Jeremy ran his fingers through Michael's black locks.

Michael almost started crying again, he was only able to nod, still wanting the hug to last forever, "Yeah, I'll uh.. hold you to it, dude."

"Wanna stuff our faces with syrup-soaked pancakes?" Jeremy asked, pulling away to see his reaction.

Michael smirked, "Always." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone had finished their food a long time ago, now they were just exchanging witty banter or suffering from a food coma.

"I am a firm believer that Walt Disney froze his body and that 'Frozen' was created to hide those google results about the body! You cannot tell me otherwise!!" Brooke slammed her fist against the table as she declared her stance on this very important matter.

"I mean it makes sense, the man was a genius! Why wouldn't he want to live forever?"

"Brooke, honey, I think you're alone on this one."

"Michael agrees with me! He believes in more conspiracies than all of us combined!"

Michael chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, "I mean it's not the stupidest theory I've heard but there are so many other theories that are way more convincing!" He was feeling better after his anxiety attack, it took some food with a couple of dumb jokes and Michael was smiling again. He was calm.

Christine was rather quiet at the moment so anyone would've nearly screamed when she slammed her palms onto the table yelling, "GUYS I JUST HAD AN AMAZING IDEA!!"

After everyone recovered from the small heart attack, Chloe was the only one quick enough to have a response, "Here we go.. What are we gonna reenact "Your Fault" again?" She rolled her eyes at the memory.

"Not this time. So, hear me out: Like it or not, we're going to be Stressed-Out College Students™, so we need an outlet of sorts in order to-"

"Chris, get to the point." Jenna cut him off, sipping her coffee.

"Okay, okay! We can create a YouTube channel! Or multiple, it's your choice."

It was silent for a second until Brooke released a muffled snicker, following by everyone laughing at the idea. Except Christine.

"It'll be fun!!" Christine smiled. Wait is she serious?

"Chris, I know you're one of the most outgoing people on this dying planet but come on. What would we even do?" Michael wiped his eyes from laughing so hard.

"Anything we want! It's like a way to...how do I put this..

"Express ourselves?" Michael added some half-assed jazz hands, obviously joking.

"Yes!! Exactly! C'mon, at least give it a shot! We can each have our own channels and then a conjoint channel for all of us! It'll so much fun and can be something interesting for us to do over the summer and in college!!"

Again, her statement was met with silence... until Jeremy sighed and gave Christine a smile, "I...uh... guess it wouldn't hurt? I'm still uh.. hesitant?"

Jeremy's agreement was all that it took for the rest of the group, even Michael, to start muttering their agreement. Jeremy had a point, it wouldn't hurt them to at least try it out, right?

Brooke tapped her chin as her mind tried to think of an idea, "Maybe... Oh! Chlo & I can do makeup tutorials, random vlogs or shopping hauls! And also have our weekly trips to Pinkberry! Whaddya say, Chloe?" Her face practically shined like a star. So of course Chloe couldn't deny her, "That might be fun.. I'm up for it if you are?" Brooke responded with a peck on Chloe's cheek.

"Barf. I'd totally do prank videos or parkour. Something hella cool. Maybe a few of those cliche internet challenges." Rich chuckled, secretly excited about this potential channel. "Bro, if you think I'm deadass not gonna join, my dude you are wrong, heh!!" Jake bro-fisted with Rich, establishing this collaboration.

Christine excitedly clapped her hands, "Yay!! I'm excited!! I mean obviously I'd do theatre reviews, maybe some covers and costume tutorials!! Oh, I can't wait!! What about you Jenna?"

Jenna didn't even need to think about it. It was almost a given, "Probably gossip & fashion review. Maybe the occasional vlog if I travel. Michael? Jer?"

All attention was on the two of them, "Well if my channel is gonna reflect my life, it'll be a mess so uh.. I guess whatever I want? It may um.. depend on my mood that day, who knows?" Jeremy just shrugged but honestly? He wasn't sure what he wanted to do at all.

"If I must create content for the people of the planet, most of it would likely consist of conspiracies.. random thoughts/realizations I have when I'm high and uh.. I dunno gaming?" Michael still wasn't keen on the idea of starting a channel but that didn't mean he wasn't gonna try it, it did sound pretty dope to him.

The group nodded in agreement, that suited them. "And we'd have a channel for all of us? Sweet. Why not make a video now? Like a launch sorta thing?" Jake suggested.

It didn't sound like a bad to them, why the hell not?

"Cool, cool. Let's create our channels first!" Christine pulled out her phone and started the process. Everyone mimicked her actions and soon enough, the SQUIP Squad had started their YouTube career.

"I think it's pretty obvious that we share our names, yeah? I'll start: My channel is 'Babbling Brookie'! Chloe and I's channel is called 'verypinkberry' Brooke was proud of the names, it obvious who created them.

"Mine is simply 'CooCooChloe', fitting isn't it?" Chloe scoffed, she actually really liked it.

"Those are nice and all but the channel to be at is 'NotSoRichieRich' cause I'm a broke bitch! Haha!" Jake rolled his and prepared his announcement as if it would change the world, "Are you ready for this, ladies & gentlemen? My channel is called.... 'JakeyD' it's fucking original and no one can top that." His toothy grin was just a cherry on top.

"Adorable. 'JamPackJenna' because woooo boy is the tea hot right now!" She was in the middle of taking a selfie that would likely be her icon.

"I wanted to do a bit of wordplay as well so I did it! 'Chrisanthemum'! It has a pretty okay ring to it. Jeremy? What about you? Please tell me it's a pun!!"

Jeremy laughed and nodded, "It's 'HeereHere'.." The first one to burst out laughing was of course Michael, that pun went way back to when the two met in preschool. "Oh-Oh my GOD Jer!! You.. You actually..!" It took Michael a few seconds to calm down as he cleared his throat, "It is purely 'Mellon'. I do not take criticism."

And no one criticized because come on, that's one of the best puns for his name.

"Sweet, now shall film this late night announcement at Dennys?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TheSQUIPSquad™ uploaded a new video.

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listentotheshityousay · 6 years ago

Text

roads diverged

After a long joint celebratory dinner with their families on the night of their graduation, Jeremy and Michael steal away and drive an hour up to the Alpine Boat Basin in the Palisades, where it's quiet and near-deserted after sunset. Michael parks the car by the waterfront and they perch on the hood together, half-melted slushies clutched in their hands as they look up across the water at the New York skyline, listening to a chapter of their lives draw to a close in the silence.

“I can’t believe I’m never gonna act in that auditorium again,” Jeremy says. It still feels unreal. “You’ll never drive me to school again.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “But I’ll drive you to tons of other places, because god knows you’re lazy and you never drive anywhere yourself.”

Jeremy pouts. “True, but you can’t chauffeur me around New Jersey all the way from Boston.”

Michael turns to give Jeremy a crooked grin. “You can boss me around when it’s not during the school term, dumbass.” He leans in to nudge Jeremy’s shoulder with his own, his voice dropping to a somber note. “But yeah, you might wanna find somebody else while I’m not around.”

There’s something about that statement that feels like a door slammed in his face. He can’t tell if it’s Michael’s tone, or the words, or the thought of not having the familiar cadence of Michael’s voice in his daily life anymore, but it makes Jeremy want to recoil. “I think I can manage on my own,” Jeremy says instead, mirroring Michael’s posture to lean against him, their arms pressing together. “But I’ll miss you. And not just because it’s nice to have you drive me places.”

Michael tips his chin up, gazing towards the stars for a long moment before he looks back down, an unreadable look on his face as he meets Jeremy’s eyes. “I,” he starts, pauses, then looks away. Clears his throat, and faces Jeremy again with a faint smile. “I’ll miss you too, buddy.”

It feels like an incomplete sentence, something swallowed away before it could become a reality. Like missing a step in the dark. Something important spoken in the spaces between words that Jeremy couldn’t hear at all.

“Ugh, now you’re making me nostalgic, and we’re not even going to college for another two months.” Michael bumps the side of his head against Jeremy’s with a huff. “I swear, you’re gonna see so much of me this summer that you’re gonna be glad to get rid of me by the end of it.”

I don’t think I ever could get sick of you, Jeremy doesn’t say. There’s something fragile about this moment, the aftermath of a silent seismic shift that happened under Jeremy’s feet that he cannot fathom, that makes him think that it’s better left unsaid.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he jokes instead, and laughs when Michael elbows him in the side with a mock-scowl.

The waterfront is chilly, especially because summer still hasn’t quite settled into New Jersey yet, but Jeremy feels overly warm and utterly at home, sitting here under the stars, Michael’s shoulder pressed against his.

At the end of summer, Michael pokes Jeremy in the chest after they load the last of Michael’s packed boxes into the backseat of his Cruiser. “I better still be your favorite person when I come back for winter break.”

“Only if you promise that you’re not gonna replace me as best friend,” Jeremy snarks, ignoring the twinge inside his ribcage. He’s all bravado these days, camouflaging his apprehension with false confidence and humor that he doesn’t really feel. It’s been a beautiful summer, full of blue skies and good memories, but he’s felt off-kilter the whole time, like he’s trying to button up his shirt but the first button went through the wrong buttonhole, and he didn’t notice until he reached the bottom.

Michael laughs. It’s usually one of Jeremy’s favorite sounds to hear, but it rings oddly hollow. “Jer, I doubt I could ever replace you.”

College is a whirlwind, with new people and new places and new things all vying for his attention as he stumbles along the learning curve of how to be in charge of his life. He shakes off the homesickness soon enough—Metuchen is only a two hour drive away, after all—but tendrils of it dig into his heart and don’t let go.

“I’m not even sure if it’s homesickness,” Jeremy confesses to his roommate, who likes to get stoned out of his mind and won’t remember this conversation tomorrow. “It’s not our town, or my house, or my dad—I miss them, yeah, but. It’s just one person.”

“My dude,” Drew drawls from where he’s sprawled across his bed, limbs akimbo, and nostalgia slithers through Jeremy’s chest, reminding him of Michael’s tendency to sprawl belly-up across the couch when he’s high. “It’s totally homesickness. Y’know, ‘cause you miss home, and home is where the heart is.”

“What the hell does that even mean,” Jeremy grumbles, because he’s not exactly sober himself, and takes another hit from the joint Drew offers him.

“I was kinda worried,” Michael says from where he’s sprawled over his beanbag chair in Jeremy’s bedroom. “I wasn’t sure we’d be okay, you know?”

Jeremy looks up from the infuriating wooden star puzzle Michael’s given him as this Hanukkah’s gag gift. He hasn’t managed to make even a single piece budge. “Dude, you were the one who kept assuring me that everything was gonna be fine.”

Michael flaps a hand at him. “I know, I know. But I wasn’t…” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure I’d be okay without you, or something like that.”

Jeremy holds the wooden star in his hands and doesn’t let himself drop it. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Michael runs a hand through his hair, turning his face away. “But I was okay, and you were okay without me, so—I guess it’s all good. Nothing to worry about.”

Michael’s right. Jeremy had been okay. He’d missed Michael, but it hadn’t cut him off at the knees or lacerated him from the inside-out. He’d been content with weekly video calls and text messages at all times of the day and two-hundred miles between them. There was nothing to worry about.

Except yesterday, Jeremy’d returned to Metuchen for winter break to discover Michael sitting on the front stoop of his house, his bored expression breaking into a beaming smile when Jeremy called his name. And Jeremy’d realized he was home.

He wonders if he should be worried about that.

Weeks later, back in his dorm room, Jeremy makes a face at his laptop while Michael laughs at his complaints about Michael’s stupid gift that’s sitting on Jeremy’s desk, unsolved. Jeremy usually picks it up before he goes to bed, measuring the weight of it in his hands as he tries to pulls it apart, and it’s transitioned from a frustrating routine to a frustrating and soothing routine. Jeremy’s not sure he’ll ever solve this without cheating through Youtube.

All the frustration is worth it, though, to see Michael's teasing grin on his screen.

There’s a girl in Jeremy’s Anthropology 101 class with shapely legs and a sweet, dimpled smile. When she asks to borrow his notes, Jeremy says yes.

When she asks Jeremy if he’d like to go grab a coffee with her, he says yes.

When she asks would you like to have dinner, just the two of us, Jeremy says yes.

"Make sure to walk her home," Michael reminds him over the phone. "Who knows, you might even get a good night kiss."

"You sound more excited than I am." Jeremy looks at the mirror and fusses with his hair one last time. It's strange; his reflection's smile looks like a lie.

Michael exhales a chuckle. "I'm happy for you, dumbass." He pauses. "I really am."

There's a sincerity to his words that makes Jeremy uneasy. Like a door closed in his face. A missed step in the dark.

"I love you too, asshole," Jeremy blusters. The ground feels unsteady under his feet.

Michael laughs, surprised and fond. "I know you do.”

When she asks for a goodnight kiss, Jeremy says I’m sorry.

The day before his final exams begin, Jeremy solves the star puzzle in a fit of procrastination. He takes victorious photos of the pieces as evidence and sends them to Michael, the satisfaction melting into melancholy as he traces the edges of each piece, his fingertips having memorized them all over the past few months.

“Whatcha gonna do without your nightly routine now?” Drew asks from where he’s been staring blankly at his economics textbooks. “You gonna get a different one?”

“I don’t like puzzles.” Michael’s the one who does. Jeremy’s only ever found them frustrating. Crosswords, riddles, complex math problems—they all only make Jeremy feel stupid.

Drew blinks very slowly. “Then why did you hang onto that one?”

“Because,” Jeremy begins, and then stops. He rethinks his words, the meaning wrapped in them. He starts over. “Because it’s a matter of pride.”

Drew makes an unimpressed noise, his gaze sliding back to his textbook, and Jeremy turns back to his desk, his chest feeling too tight. Everything seems off-kilter these days. He’ll forget it about it every once in a while, only to abruptly regain keen awareness of how it feels like his skin doesn’t fit right or his blood is too warm or he’s been buttoning his shirts all wrong

He could have said the truth. He could have said because Michael gave it to me. The words alone mean nothing.

But the spaces between the words, the way he traced every edge of the puzzle with his fingertips every night, nostalgia humming in his bones—those mean everything.

He comes back for the summer to find Michael at the bus station, leaning against the side of his Cruiser with a lazy smile that makes Jeremy’s bones hum louder.

“Man, it’s good to see you.” Michael’s jawline has grown a little sharper with the loss of baby fat, and the slant of his grin looks different now. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the slope of his shoulders—they’re the same yet different. It’s the way Michael holds himself, Jeremy realizes. He looks more confident. More relaxed.

“Yeah,” Jeremy says inanely, still staggering from the revelation that Michael’s gone and grown up while Jeremy’s been, well, Jeremy.

When Michael snorts and leans in to wrap him in a hug, the hum in Jeremy’s bones quiets, leaving him to hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage all too well, and he realizes, fuck.

“I missed you,” Michael says.

Jeremy’s body goes hot all over, and he squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face into Michael’s shoulder as he hugs him back. He hopes his voice is muffled enough to conceal the quaver in his voice. “I missed you, too.”

It takes days for Jeremy to process the fact that he finds his best friend attractive and that he might have a crush on said best friend. He’s never been very self-aware even at the best of times, but it’s excruciating to think back to all the obvious giveaways and signs he’s blindly overlooked for such a long time.

He tries not to think about it too much. He pushes it to the very back of his mind, under the metaphorical bed, and doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He doesn’t want to examine his own feelings, where they started, how deep they run, how true they are. He doesn’t want them at all. Michael is supposed to be the one uncomplicated part of his life, his Player One who he can trust no matter what, and the idea of him becoming the one person who could truly hurt Jeremy scares him more than anything.

So he doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t let himself consider it. When Michael’s touch sparks a fire in his chest, he holds his breath and starves it of oxygen. When Michael’s smile makes his heart jump to his throat, he swallows it back down.

Some nights, he lays in his bed and thinks that maybe, one day, this will be something he can laugh about. Something like growing pains, ephemeral hurt soon to be mere bittersweet memory, just a passing ailment that leaves no scars.

That’s the most he ever lets himself think about it.

Two days after Independence Day, Michael wheedles Jeremy into going up to the Alpine Boat Basin to watch more fireworks. Jeremy’s seen enough fireworks to last him a year, but he’s seemingly lost the ability to say no to spending time with Michael this summer, so he gives in after a token resistance, making excuses about how the Palisades is beautiful this time of the year anyway.

They arrive early enough to roam the waterfront while the daylight dies across the sky, a cascade of pinks and oranges and reds that bleed into darkness. Michael hauls out his DSLR and takes photos, and Jeremy pretends not to notice the occasional candids that Michael sneaks of him from a distance. Together, they watch New York light up slowly across the water, and then they trek back to the car where it’s parked as close to the water as the parking lot permits.

“It’s been a long year,” Michael says as they wait, perched on the hood of Michael’s Cruiser together, lukewarm bottles of soda clutched in their hands. “You ready for another one?”

“Don’t remind me. Please let me enjoy the remaining six weeks of summer break in peace,” Jeremy groans. “No talking about school until August, remember?”

Michael laughs, amused and carefree, and the sound of it makes Jeremy’s heart somersault in his chest. “Alright, you big baby.”

Before Jeremy can come up with a retort to that, an explosion of bright red explodes above the water. “Oh, wow.”

The display isn’t as grand as the Independence Day fireworks at Papaianni Park, but it’s breathtaking all the same, the lights reflected on the surface of the Hudson River against the backdrop of the glittering New York skyline. Here, there isn’t the swarming crowd or their parents. It’s just the two of them, Jeremy and Michael, sitting under the stars and fireworks, and Jeremy’s goddamn heart rattling in his chest at the lights reflected in Michael’s eyes.

“It’s been a hell of a year, but it wasn’t that bad, right?” Michael asks, his gaze fixed skyward, leaning closer so Jeremy can hear him over the boom of the fireworks. “We came out of it just fine.”

Jeremy forces himself to refocus on the fireworks. Pushes down the urge to mirror Michael’s posture and lean in. Swallows his heart and spits out empty words instead. “I guess so.”

There’s a brief lull in the explosions, like a breath held in anticipation, and just as the silence is sinking in, a burst of gold scatters across the sky, lighting up the sky and the water.

And Michael says, “You know, I had a crush on you.”

Jeremy’s heart nearly stops. “What?”

“Wild, right?” Michael laughs, and the sound of it fractures Jeremy’s heart. “Like, I got a crush on you sometime around the summer after eighth grade? And then it pretty much lasted throughout the whole time in high school. Which sounds incredibly pathetic, now that I’m saying it out loud, because that’s like four years?”

“Four years,” Jeremy repeats, and he can barely breathe around the words. “Until the end of high school?”

Michael finally looks down, a sheepish grin curling at his mouth. “Well, okay, it took me some more time to get over you, but college kinda helped, I guess? And the distance?” He shrugs. “Anyway, it’s old news now, so don’t get all weird about it, okay? I just wanted to tell you. Closure, or something like that.”

All the unspoken words, the ignored feelings, they’re rattling in Jeremy’s chest, climbing up his throat, refusing to be contained under the bed, under the rug, in the recesses of his mind, and he thinks he just might implode from it all.

“So…it’s over now?” His voice cracks, but Michael doesn’t seem to hear the break in the facade through the din of fireworks. “We’re still best friends?”

“Yeah.” A flicker of worry passes over Michael’s face. “That’s okay, right? You’re not weirded out?”

Unable to trust his voice, Jeremy shakes his head, and something in his chest gives away at the relief in Michael’s eyes.

“Thank fuck, I was worried for a hot second there.” Michael throws and arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, leaning his solid, warm weight against Jeremy’s side. “I’m really glad,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice is so suffocating that Jeremy has to close his eyes for a moment.

He shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help but think that four years is a long time. “How serious was it?”

“What?” Michael blinks, turning to face Jeremy quizzically before he catches on. “Oh, you mean my feelings?” He smiles, wide and bright, and that’s how Jeremy knows he’s about to lie. “It wasn’t anything serious.”

The words might are a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of Jeremy’s lungs, cracking his chest open. But Jeremy’s always been the better liar between the two of them, so he nods and smiles back, and he watches the last of the fireworks die in the night sky.

In the dark, curled up on his bed, Jeremy retraces his steps his steps through tonight. He barely remembers the drive home. It’d been quiet, with occasional banter and Michael’s playlist filling the silence, and Jeremy’s head had been full of static, his nerves buzzing, time blurring. He rewinds past today and through the days and weeks and months and finally looks the truth in the eye.

The truth is, Jeremy’s a fucking idiot. Because it’s not just a crush. It was never just a crush.

He knows now. He knows what it was that Michael didn’t tell him last year when they were at the Palisades, that moment when the first button went wrong, that first missed step in the dark. He knows what he’d felt, warm and at home by Michael’s side, utterly content and too fucking stupid to realize his own feelings. He knows that all the possibility in the world had been at their fingertips that night, had maybe even been possible after that, and if only Michael had been braver, or Jeremy’d dared to examine his heart, they could have walked an entirely different path. They could have been in love together.

But Jeremy had been too scared to be honest with himself, and Michael had been too scared to be honest with Jeremy. And now, the door to that path has been closed in Jeremy’s face, and he’s in love alone.

“Hey, you okay?” Michael asks as they exit the 7-Eleven, slushies in hand.

Jeremy had cried himself to sleep and woken up with his broken heart lacerating him from inside-out. He’d washed his face and changed into clean clothes and practiced his smile in the mirror until it’d looked real. He’d eaten lunch with his dad and talked about the fireworks and hadn’t let himself falter when he’d said that it had been a fun night. And when Michael had pulled into the driveway for their slushie run, he’d walked out of the house with steady steps and hadn’t let himself fall to his knees.

“I’m okay,” Jeremy says, and quirks a small smile to convince Michael as they both climb into the car. “Just tired because I couldn’t sleep in the heat.”

Michael snorts. “Wuss. It wasn’t that hot.”

“Shut up and drive.” Jeremy gives Michael a playful shove, and the lingering worry melts away, the tension slipping from Michael’s shoulders, just as Jeremy intended. “You’re my chauffeur, remember?”

“You’re so lazy,” Michael mock-scolds him, but he turns the ignition on and grins. “What would you do without me?”

“I’d survive.” The truth will only hurt them both, so Jeremy will keep it to himself and spare Michael the pain. Even if it takes a lifetime of lying. Even if it means breaking his own heart. “Maybe even drive myself to the mall.”

Michael snorts, his mouth quirking into a wicked grin that makes the hollow cavern of Jeremy’s chest ache. “Sure, Jer, I’d love to see that.”

“I’d be fine without you,” Jeremy lies. He has the rest of his life to make it true.

#be more chill #bmc #boyf riends #fic #mine #I might post this on ao3 too sometime later but we'll see #THIS IS HOW I CRASH BACK INTO TUMBLR AFTER MY HIATUS #I had to spend twenty goddamn minutes looking for a title because it's so LONG #anyway yes it's a reference to the robert frost poem #mutually unrequited pining #OKAY OFF TO BED NOW #EDIT: holy FUCK I accidentally forgot the read more at first #sorry mobile users you'll still get the full 3.4k of this bullshit

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dobseventeen · 7 years ago

Text

A New Beginning: Part 8

A/N: I freaking loved writing this chapter, it’s so damn cute. This is basically just a huge fluff chapter, but don’t worry, it’ll be pure smut next chapter ;-) I’m loving where the story is going. Please let me know what you guys think! Thanks for reading babes!

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 4,352

Warnings: Cussing

Summary: Y/N is back home, preparing for her move to Cali. She tries to keep herself busy, so her mind doesn’t wander to how much she misses Dylan.

Previous Chapter: Part 7

Next Chapter: Part 9

You trudged up the steps of your apartment building, jet lag consuming you. Not only did you have a layover, but your connecting flight was delayed, making your two hour layover turn into a five hour one. You were supposed to have arrived home around 3am, but here you were trekking through your apartment building in the mid-morning, the sun already shinning brightly in the sky. While exhaustion was weighing heavy on you, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Dylan and the moment you two shared before you walked into LAX. You hated that you’d be separated for so long, but the new level you two had reached gave you confidence that you’d be able to start right where you left off.

You fumbled with your keys before finally unlocking the door to your two bedroom apartment, one which you shared with your best friend, Sammy. As excited as you were to see her and fill her in on your life changing week in LA, you were thankful that she was at work and you’d have the apartment to yourself for the next few hours, giving you time to sleep off the awful jet lag you were enduring.

As you stepped into the kitchen, the first thing you saw was a beautiful bouquet of flowers in an eloquent vase, situated in the middle of the breakfast bar. A smile instantly covered your face as you rushed over to read the card that was attached, even though you already had a pretty good idea who sent them.

I miss your cute ass already, can you come back to LA yet? -Dylan

“That smooth fucker.” you said aloud, overcome by his sweet gesture, a smile now permanently spread across your face. You wondered how they ended up in the apartment, but you figured Sammy must’ve been home when they were delivered. If this was any indication of how the next month apart was going to be, then you knew you had nothing to worry about. You realized in that moment that you had yet to let him know that you made it home, so you pulled out your phone to type him a quick text with a picture of the flowers attached.

Y/N: “What am I going to do with you? I’m so not worthy!!”

Dylan O’Brien: “Don’t even start with me, babe. You’re worthy of so much more than just a vase of flowers. Glad you made it home safely.”

You were thankful that you were alone at the moment, because you couldn’t help the blush that now covered your cheeks and the smile that you couldn’t wipe off your face.

Y/N: “You never fail to surprise me, O’Brien 😘 Also, how the hell did you get my address?”

Dylan O’Brien: “I have my ways, Y/N, don’t worry about it 😉 Now go sleep, you’ve been up for almost 24 hours. Text me later!”

You shook your head and chuckled at his response. You had absolutely no idea how he could’ve gotten your address, but you were thankful he went out of his way to figure it out, even if it could be considered creepy by some. Truthfully, if it had been anyone else you would be absolutely be disturbed, but once again, you were being swept up by the wonderfulness that was Dylan O’Brien— and you loved every second of it.

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After unpacking and resting for a few hours, you were now on your way to meet Sammy for dinner at one of your favorite restaurants. You were so excited to finally see her after what felt like ages, and you were even more excited to finally tell someone about your time spent with Dylan. When you walked in the doors of the restaurant, you saw your best friend perched up on one the barstools, her blonde hair in loose curls with one leg crossed over the other. She was stirring her drink nonchalantly while watching whatever was on the TV above the bar, not realizing you had arrived.

You walked up behind her and stood with your arms crossed, “Whats up, bitch?” you said with a smirk.

She whipped herself around in the barstool instantly, “OH MY GOD, HI!!” she exclaimed while jumping down to envelope you in a hug.

“Hi! I’ve missed you so much!” you said sweetly as you both pulled away and climbed into two seats at the bar.

“How was your flight home, did everything go okay? I thought you were supposed to be home by the time I left for work this morning? Did you miss your flight because you and Dylan were having hot, steamy sex?” she asked jokingly while you were getting the bartenders attention to order a drink.

“Oh my god, No!” you said with a roll of your eyes and a small laugh.

“My connecting flight got delayed in Denver, so I had like a five hour layover.” you added with a groan.

“That sucks, dude. I’m glad you made it back safely though.” she said warmly.

“Now, onto more important things. Tell. Me. Everything. I want every single sexy detail about your time spent with Dylan O’Brien’s fine ass.” she demanded before finishing the contents of her drink.

After finishing up about 3 glasses of wine and your dinner, you had finally filled Sammy in on everything that had happened during your time away. Now you were mentally preparing yourself to answer all the questions she was bound to have with all this new information.

“Holy fuck, dude? I don’t even know where to start.” she said with a half-serious face.

“Well, you can ask me anythi-” you started, but were interrupted.

“Does he have a big dick? I feel like he has to.” she asked casually, catching you completely off-guard.

“Sammy! Oh my god, I-uhh-what?!” you exclaimed back to her, obviously you hadn’t prepared yourself for that question.

“I’m gonna guess he does based on the insane amount of blush that is now covering your face.” she said with smirk before taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re ridiculous.” was all you could manage to reply with. You shouldn’t have been surprised that she brought that question up, you knew damn well that you’d ask her the same thing.

“Okay, but on a serious note, do you like him? Like despite the fact that he’s this huge movie star whose fucking insanely gorgeous and famous, do you want it to become something more? Something serious?” she asked in a clear tone.

You were quiet for a second while you tried to collect your thoughts. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook you when you thought about Dylan and the way things left off between the two of you.

“I really like him, Sam. And at first I was afraid he only wanted it to be a fling, but we had such a good time together this week and we had this awesome talk like right before I left and, basically, I think we’re going to try and make it become something more.” you said softly, loving the fact that you were able to speak all these feelings aloud.

“Y/N, I’m so happy for you. It’s about damn time you found someone who treats you right, especially someone like him.” she said with a warm smile.

“Thanks, Sammy. He makes me so happy. He even sent me a huge bouquet of flowers, but I’m gonna guess you were the one who answered the door when they were delivered?” you said casually.

“Uhm-I-Uh, yeah-I- they delivered them this morning!” was all she said in response. You felt like there was something she wasn’t telling you, but you decided to let it go.

“Well thanks for taking them for me. It definitely made the god-awful trip home worth it when I saw them.” you admitted softly. In that moment, your mind flashed to Dylan. You wondered what he was doing in that moment. You figured this is how most of your thoughts were going to go over the next month; centered around him. You didn’t mind, though. You’d much rather think about him and what he was doing than the physical distance that was between you both.

-----------------------------------------------

You didn’t realize all things that you had to get done before you moved across the country. You thought that physically moving all your stuff to California would be the hard part, but once you realized all the loose ends you had to tie up at home, you were somewhat thankful that you’d have a month get it all done.

A few days after you returned home you found out that you landed the condo that just so happened to be on the same side of town as Dylan’s house. Score. You were elated to know that in a few short weeks you’d be living within minutes of him, which sure as hell beat the 6 hour flight that currently separated you.

Now that you knew where you were living, you could begin to the long process of ordering furniture and sorting out your current belongings to ship out there. You knew it was going to take you forever to go through everything and sort what was going with you and what could be given away, so you decided to do a little bit each day instead of procrastinating like you normally would.

You kept yourself pretty busy for a majority of the week after you returned home. Along with packing and getting ready for your move, you were able to spend time with Sammy, your other friends, and your family. You decided to keep the details of the new man in your life to a minimum. The last thing you wanted was to get everyone all excited because you were “dating” a movie star, especially when you weren’t sure how it was all going to play out. You were glad that you were keeping yourself busy, because you knew if you were just sitting at home, you’d drive yourself crazy thinking about Dylan.

You had been in constant contact with Dylan since you left him at LAX. You texted everyday and talked on the phone almost every night. You normally weren’t the type of person to need this constant communication, but it came easily with Dylan. You never felt like you needed to text him, but you found yourself wanting to, especially when the conversation came so easy with him. Your heart never failed to skip a beat when his name came up on your phone. and a smile seemed to be permanently etched on your face anytime you would hear his alluring voice come through your cell. It was no mystery that you both immensely missed each other, but this first week apart had gone by so fast, you were both hopeful that the rest of the month would too.

--------------------------------------------

You were now at a rooftop-patio bar in the downtown area of your city with your family, Sammy, and her boyfriend, Luke. You were celebrating your Mom’s birthday by grabbing some dinner and drinks while enjoying the beautiful summer weather. You couldn’t help but feel so thankful for your life at the moment. Not only were you planning a life changing move, but you had spent the entire day with your friends and family just hanging out and spending some quality time together, trying to see each other as much as possible before you take off for California. The only thing that seemed to be missing was Dylan. You wanted nothing more than to spend these important moments with him, but you had hope that eventually you would be able to.

The sun was just beginning to set when you all sat down at a table on the patio that overlooked the central part of the city. While everyone was talking amongst themselves, you found yourself smiling down at your phone, texting Dylan. Unfortunately, he had been busy in meetings all day, so you hadn’t talked to him since the morning, but you wanted to send him a quick message to let him know you were missing him.

Y/N: “Hope you’re having a good day, babe. Wish you could be here right about now, I miss your fine ass 😉”

“Who ya texting, Y/N?” Sammy asked from across the table, a huge smirk covering her face. She was loving the ability to get you all red in the face and flustered over the mention of Dylan, especially when she was the only one besides Luke at the table that knew about him. Today she was especially adamant when it came to asking about Dylan, and it made you begin to wonder exactly what angle she was playing.

“Uhm... just a friend.” you muttered while giving her a piercing glare, trying to cover the flood of emotions that the question brought you.

“What friend, Y/N?” your mother, Pam, asked from the head of the table, an amused look on her face.

“Just a guy I met, nothing too serious yet.” you said sheepishly, not liking that the entire table’s attention was now on you.

“And will we ever get to meet this mystery man?” your step-dad, Brian, added before taking a sip of his beer.

You couldn’t help but notice while you were being grilled with questions, Sammy had left the table to take a call. She was now leaning over the railing, looking down at the street below. Who could she be talking to?

“Maybe someday.” was all you could say before quickly averting your attention to the drink menu in front of you. If you wouldn’t have removed yourself from the conversation so fast you would have noticed the looks that were being exchanged across the table in reaction to you. You then remembered you felt your phone vibrate on your lap a few minutes earlier, making you grateful that you had something else to put your attention towards besides the table full of people who were far too interested in your love life.

Dylan O’Brien: “I had a pretty good day, Y/N. Trust me, I wish I were with you too. Where are you right now?”

Y/N: “I’m glad to hear it, Dyl ❤️ Currently at this cute rooftop bar celebrating my Mom’s birthday. Everyone keeps asking when they’re going to meet this new man in my life 🙈 I’m struggling to come up with a good answer to that question.”

After you sent your last message, Sammy returned to the table with a strange expression resting on her face. She was failing terribly at concealing a large smile, her gaze always falling back on you whenever she looked around the table.

“What is up with you tonight?” you asked her, concerned something was wrong.

“Uhm, nothing. Everything is perfect.” she replied simply as she reached out to give your hand a small squeeze. You gave her a puzzled look but then felt your phone vibrate again, breaking your concentration from your blonde friend who was now starring at something behind you.

Dylan O’Brien: “I think I have an answer to that question. Turn around, babe.”

“Oh my god.” you said aloud while dropping your phone to the table and all but jumping out of your chair. You whipped your head around and saw Dylan standing there behind you, slowly walking your way while tucking his phone back in his pocket.

You practically skipped across the patio and instantly wrapped your arms around him, completely intoxicated by his presence. He wrapped his arms around you and swung you around, both you erupting in laughter. To be in his arms again gave you a feeling of pure bliss, happiness, and relief. You couldn’t believe he was here, considering his busy schedule, but you weren’t going to question it one bit. Now that he was here you weren’t sure you’d ever let him leave. You pulled away after a few more seconds and looked up into the whiskey eyes that you’d come to know so well.

“What are you doing here?!” you exclaimed with an imperishable smile, both hands resting on his arms.

“You told me I had to come help you pack, so here I am.” he said with a wink and his classic smirk, sending waves of adoration through you.

“You’re insane.” you said with a small grin, pink dusted heavily on your cheeks.

And then it hit you that there’s no way he could’ve just shown up here, “How did you kn-” you added before being interrupted.

“You can thank me.” Sammy said as she walked up beside you.

“Hi Dylan, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.” she said while extending her hand out to him. Your mouth hung agape at the two of them. You couldn’t believe they’d been in touch this entire time.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Sam. Thanks for helping me with everything, definitely wouldn’t have pulled this off without you.” he said sweetly, giving her a smile while wrapping his arm around your lower back.

“I can’t believe you two! You had this planned out the whole time?” you exclaimed, taken aback by the effort that both of them must’ve put in to make this all happen.

“Yeah... I may have gotten in touch with her back when you were still in LA. How else did you think I would know where to send your flowers?” he said charmingly while pulling you further into him.

“I don’t even know what to say. You never fail to surprise me, O’Brien.” you said while looking adoringly up at him, admiring the gorgeous man who just traveled across the country to come see you. He looked even better than you remembered; his chocolate hair was perfectly tousled, he was sporting some scruff along his jaw line, and he had gotten a nice tan from the days he’d recently spent playing baseball with his friends. On top of his physical appearance, he was wearing a plain black t-shirt that showed off all the muscles of his back, chest, and arms in the best way possible, along with a pair of khakis and his infamous green Adidas. You were practically salivating just looking at him, and you already couldn’t wait to get him home for the night.

“Anything for you, babe.” he said before bending down a giving you a light kiss, his hands resting on your waist. You knew that you missed Dylan, but you didn’t realize just how much you missed him until his lips were finally on yours again. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to the electricity that would jolt through veins every time his lips touched you, and if you were being honest, you never wanted to get used to it.

As you two pulled apart after a few quick seconds, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You basically forgot that you were at a family dinner the second you saw Dylan, and now you were slightly embarrassed that they all just witnessed your reunion with the man you had failed to give them any details about.

“I guess I should introduce you.” you said bashfully while taking his hand in yours.

“You lead the way, gorgeous. I’m excited to meet your family.” he said softly, giving your hand a small squeeze.

After going around the table and introducing Dylan to your mother, stepfather, older brother and his girlfriend, younger brother, and Luke, you were finally sitting down and preparing to order your dinner. As you watched Dylan interact with your family, you couldn’t resist the new feeling of admiration for him. You knew he was the perfect gentleman, but to see him in action shaking everyone’s hands, laughing, and basically getting along with your family better than you do, you were in awe.

While Dylan was in an in-depth conversation with Alex, your younger brother, about baseball, you made direct eye contact with Sammy from across the table, who was giving you a look of pure geniality. You were so thankful for her. You couldn’t describe how lucky you were to have a friend who was willing to do all of this for you, just to see you happy.

You flashed her a sincere smile, “Thank you so much, Sam. This means so much to me, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.” you said quietly, not wanting to involve anyone else in the conversation.

“Oh hush, you practically did the same thing for me when I first met Luke, and honestly, I love seeing you this happy. You came back from California as a different person— a happy person, and if he is the reason for that, then I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way.” she said tenderly while motioning towards Dylan.

“Ugh, I’m so not worthy of you.” you said simply, struggling to find words to express your gratitude. She beamed you a grin before returning to her conversation with Luke and your older brother, Seth.

You now turned your attention to Dylan and Alex, who were still discussing baseball and their respective teams standings in the league. You loved seeing Dylan fit in so well with your family, even if he was currently in a debate with your brother about whose team was better. You reached down and took Dylan’s hand into yours under the table, trying to convey just how thankful you were that he was here. He looked back to you and flash a soft smile while tracing his thumb over your knuckles.

“You guys better be careful, you both have an intense love for two completely different teams, don’t want any punches to be thrown.” you said jokingly while shifting your gaze between Alex and Dylan.

“Nah, we’ll be alright. That is until the Reds kick the Mets’ ass next month.” Alex said cockily.

“We’ll see about that, dude. I guarantee my Mets will win the series.” Dylan said nonchalantly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Wanna bet on it, maze runner?” Alex chirped, getting way too into the conversation. You completely forgot to mention to Dylan that your little brother loved the maze runner series.

You rolled your eyes at the two boys, “Oh god, here we go.” you murmured.

Dylan chuckled, “Mmmm, yeah, I’ll bet on it. What are the stakes?”

“Uhm, if the Mets win, which they won’t, I’ll wear a Mets hat for a whole week.” Alex replied confidently.

Dylan raised his eyebrows at the young man, surprised by his suggestion.

“Okay, and if the Reds win, I’ll bring you on the set of my next movie and show you around, shank.” Dylan said smoothly, giving your brother a small wink after the reference to the Maze Runner.

“You’re so on!” Alex exclaimed while reaching his hand out to shake on the newly formed bet. Dylan did the same and gave him a firm shake, confirming the deal.

“You guys are ridiculous.” you said with a small chuckle, silently loving how well your brother and Dylan were already getting along.

The rest of the dinner went by perfectly. As far as you could tell, everyone loved Dylan and it seemed like he had had a good time, but you were more than ready to have him to yourself. After a few drinks following dinner, your family left, followed by Sammy and Luke shortly after.

“We’re gonna go back to Luke’s apartment tonight, that way you can-uh- have ours to yourself.” she said whispered into your ear before eyeing the grasp you currently had on Dylan’s arm.

“You’re the best.” you mouthed softly before letting out a small laugh.

“What are you two talking about?” Dylan asked innocently as he looked down at you.

“Oh nothing, Dyl. Just that Sammy and Luke are about to leave.” you said lovingly while tightening your grip on his bicep.

“It was so nice to finally meet you, Dylan. Thanks for keeping my best friend’s crazy-ass happy. And you better make sure it stays that way.” she stated while giving him an half-serious glare.

“I plan on keeping it that way.” he responded honestly, giving her a small nod.

“It was nice meeting you man, I’m sure I’ll see you around soon.” Luke said while giving him a handshake.

“Of course, man. It’s been great hanging with you tonight.” Dylan replied with a kind smile before Luke draped his arm around Sammy’s shoulders, leading them out of the now-busy bar. Dylan now turned his attention back to you.

“God, I’ve missed you so much. I can’t believe it’s only been a week.” he said while his whiskey eyes locked with yours.

“I know, babe. I’m so glad you’re here now though. No one has ever done anything like this for me. I’m so lucky I found you.” you said tenderly, not caring about the blush that now dusted over your face.

Dylan looked at you before brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, “How many times do I have to tell you that I am the lucky one?” he said gorgeously before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. The fire that you had missed so much since leaving LA was once again ignited within you in that moment, his touch never failing to have that effect on you. After a few euphoric moments of your tongues dancing around one another, you realized you needed to be alone with him, as soon as possible.

“How about we get out of here? I can’t take another second of not being alone with you.” you said seductively with your hand resting on the side of his face.

“You lead the way, gorgeous.” he said charmingly, looking deeply into your eyes.

You both left the bar, hand-in-hand, beginning the short walk to your apartment. His touch was the only thing on your mind. You couldn’t wait to be home so he could finally set the fire ablaze that had been burning since you left him at LAX.

You both knew you were in for an unforgettable night.

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Next Chapter: Part 9

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